Maiden Voyage
by amythis
Summary: Gilligan and Mary Ann set out in the canoe. Meanwhile, the Professor and Ginger begin a journey of their own. Sequel to "Can You Canoe?" but more serious. This story starts out T-rated but becomes mildly M-rated starting in Chapter Nine.
1. Dawn

Gilligan got up very early his first morning as a married man. He wanted to say goodbye to Gladys the gorilla, Herman the turtle, and all his other animal pals.

"I'm sure gonna miss you guys," he told them. "You've always listened to me, even when the other people didn't. I wish I could take at least some of you along but there's no room in the canoe." He thought about offering to have the rescue ship pick some of them up, but he knew the animals would be happiest on the island. He did hope that he and Mary Ann could get some pets when they got settled, wherever they ended up living. She had grown up on a farm, so she was used to animals.

Emily quacked and Gilligan smiled. "I know, you could swim along next to the canoe, but even so, you'd better stay here." If he took Emily along, Mary Ann's family might end up serving the duck for dinner some night!

Gilligan assumed that he and Mary Ann would meet the in-laws once they got back to the United States. Oh, that reminded him. He had to be sure to pack the shirt he'd borrowed from his brother years ago.

He said goodbye to the animals and headed back to his hut. The Skipper was just waking up when he arrived.

"Gilligan! Were you out all night?"

"No, Skipper, I thought about what you said about sleeping with Mary Ann draining my energy, so I came back here and slept in my hammock."

"Glad to hear it."

Gilligan had been looking forward to cuddling with Mary Ann, but he supposed he could do some of that on the canoe voyage, as long as they didn't sleep at the same time.

He started packing his duffel bag (not the one that Ginger made into a dress years ago, a different one). He'd been so busy getting the wedding raft ready and all the other stuff he'd had to do in the last couple days, he hadn't time to pack. But then he didn't have that many clothes, and they were mostly identical.

As he was folding his third red shirt, the Skipper said, "Well, Little Buddy, do you want any last minute advice before you set out?"

Gilligan shrugged. "I don't think so. You and the Professor have told me a lot about the tides and everything. And there are maps and a compass in the canoe, so we should be able to make it to Hawaii if we don't get sighted in the meantime."

The Skipper hesitated as if he wanted to say something very serious, but he just patted Gilligan's shoulder and said, "Good man."

Gilligan felt self-conscious at the breakfast table. With all the shuffling around of who slept where, so he and Mary Ann could spend their wedding night together, the others probably wondered what happened. But it seemed personal to Gilligan whether or not he slept with his bride. He'd told the Skipper since the Skipper was his best friend, but he didn't want to say anything to anyone else.

Well, Mary Ann knew of course, and she probably told Ginger. And then the Professor knew because Gilligan had to kick him out of his hammock. But the Howells, who seemed to have spent the night at the Professor's, likely didn't know that they'd given up their hut for no reason. Well, Gilligan sure wasn't going to tell them.

Mary Ann had made a delicious breakfast, as always. It was funny to think that she wouldn't be cooking for him for awhile. Well, she'd make meals in the canoe, but she wouldn't be able to use fire. It was nice to think of them having a little house somewhere, with her in the kitchen, pets in the yard.

Of course, he didn't know where that would be. Maybe in Hawaii, if she didn't mind living on another island. He wasn't sure what he'd do for a living. Maybe the Skipper could get another boat with the insurance money on _The Minnow_. They could give tours again, since the odds of another freak storm like the one in '64 were pretty low. That'd be fun. Maybe Mary Ann could make the free lunches they served the passengers.

But first they had to get rescued of course. And that meant paddling the canoe. When his plate was clean, he and Mary Ann looked at each other and nodded. It was time to get going.

The others of course followed them down to the lagoon to say goodbye. They'd all meet again, but this was the last time they would be gathered on the island as the group of seven who'd gone through so much together.

Mrs. Howell hugged him and kissed his cheek. She was the closest thing they had to a mother on the island. He never would've guessed that he'd get so close to one of the richest women in the world. Not that he knew her well, even after eight years, but he would miss her kindness and positive thinking.

Then Mr. Howell came over and shook his hand. The millionaire wasn't as nice as his wife, but Gilligan had learned over the years that he wasn't the tough businessman he sometimes pretended to be.

The Professor shook his hand, too. Gilligan had the feeling he'd never meet anyone as smart as the Professor for the rest of his life. He also admired the Professor's honesty. The Professor always meant what he said, even if Gilligan didn't always understand what he meant.

Then Ginger gave him a hug and a kiss, less maternal than Mrs. Howell, but much less flirty now that he was a married man. It was something to think of how Gilligan had gotten to know her as a person, so she wasn't just a pretty face on the big screen.

The Skipper's hug was warm. Of the five people Gilligan was leaving behind, he would miss this one the most. The Skipper had been like a father to him, sometimes disapproving and impatient, but good-hearted and loyal.

Mary Ann was getting her goodbye hugs and kisses, too. And everyone was wishing them luck of course. Gilligan didn't know what to say. He wasn't really good at making speeches, even informal speeches.

Then Mary Ann, with tears in her eyes, said, "I'm going to miss all of you so much!"

"Yeah, me, too," said Gilligan.


	2. Part

As they waved goodbye to the couple in the canoe, Ginger felt choked up. Even though she was dying to be rescued, it was still hard to let her best friend go. And she had a soft spot for Gilligan, too. The island wouldn't be the same without them, and life after the island would be so different!

She glanced over at the Skipper, who was also being parted from a best friend. The big man blew his nose but was pretending not to cry.

"Come, Lovey, I need to tune in to the financial news on the radio and see how the stock market is doing, since it looks like I'll be playing it again soon."

"And I've got to plan an ensemble for the rescue."

Ginger couldn't help thinking of how many times Mrs. Howell, all of them really, had chosen outfits fit for the Coast Guard or whoever their hoped for rescuers du jour were. After the Howells left, Ginger asked the two men on either side of her, "Do you really think we'll be rescued?"

"Well, I wouldn't have chosen them to pilot the canoe if I didn't," the Professor said huffily.

"And I've taught them both all they know about boats," the Skipper said defensively.

She hadn't intended to offend either man, so she didn't point out that the Professor had mostly chosen the crew on the basis of body mass, or that the Skipper had only taught Mary Ann about canoes the day before. Instead she said, "I hope they get picked up soon, so they don't have to paddle all the way to Hawaii."

Both men nodded.

"Well, I guess I'd better start thinking about what to make for lunch. And dinner." She knew as soon as this voyage was decided on that the bulk of the cooking would fall to her. None of the men nor Mrs. Howell could cook very well without Mary Ann's guidance, while Ginger could manage on her own. And hopefully it would be for only a few weeks.

"Thanks, Ginger. I'll try to catch you some fish today."  
"Thanks, Skipper." Gilligan had done most of the fishing, but the Skipper was certainly capable of it.

"And I'll see what in Mary Ann's vegetable garden is ripe."  
"Thanks, Professor."

She went back to her hut. It seemed so quiet and empty now that her roommate was gone. Mary Ann wasn't a larger than life sort of person, like Ginger's old roommate Debbie Dawson. She was quiet and sensible, the sort of person who might be overlooked at a party. But Ginger had really gotten to know the farm girl, and her absence was already making a difference.

She sighed and started to make a list of possible menus. She didn't know how long this would be for, but she'd plan for a month, just in case. Mary Ann had said it would take 25 days to Hawaii by canoe, and then of course the rescue party would have to find the uncharted desert isle. She didn't want to think what would happen if Gilligan and Mary Ann were lost at sea.

Breakfasts were simple. There were enough birds on the island that eggs were easy to come by, although the best tree-climber was now gone. Perhaps the Professor could come up with a device to get eggs out of the higher nests. Oh, and there were turtle eggs, too, which weren't bad once you got used to them. Ginger knew how to make pancakes, and there were trees with sap that made good cider.

Ginger smiled, thinking of how Mary Ann had once told her about how she and Gilligan had first found those trees, and they'd had to "kiss" the trees to try the sap. Mary Ann had told Gilligan that it was sweet, just like him, but he didn't take the hint. Ginger hoped he was better at taking hints now, or maybe Mary Ann would use a less subtle approach now that they were married.

Ginger sighed and went back to her list. Shellfish and other kinds of fish of course. Birds, although she'd try to spare Gilligan's pet duck unless they got desperate. Eggs for dinner as well as breakfast she supposed. Occasionally the men captured wild pigs, so that would mean sausage, ham, and bacon. That covered meat, unless something washed ashore.

As for fruits and vegetables, they were lucky that so many tropical and not so tropical fruits grew on the island, among them bananas, berries, dates, grapefruit, and oranges. There were wild vegetables as well as the ones in Mary Ann's garden. Ginger couldn't remember if breadfruit was actually a vegetable, but they had that, too.

What else? Oh, baked goods. Mary Ann had claimed that Ginger's pies were as good as her own, but Ginger knew that Gilligan preferred Mary Ann's. Well, the others had never complained. And Ginger could make a decent cake. But mostly they would need bread for everyday meals. Perhaps the Professor could help with that, since it was like science. Well, all cooking was, she supposed.

There wasn't much she could do for the milk group. They had no cows or goats, and you can't really make cheese or butter out of coconut milk, no matter how hard Mary Ann had tried. They had eaten ice cream years ago, when Gilligan had wasted two out of three wishes on it. It had tasted so good though, and Ginger didn't regret it. She planned to order a hot fudge sundae once they got back to civilization, no matter what it did to her figure.

She thought of all the plans she and the others had made each time there was a chance of rescue. She hoped they weren't setting themselves up for disappointment again. This time it would be even worse, because if they didn't get rescued, then that would mean that Gilligan and Mary Ann hadn't survived. She couldn't let herself dwell on that. She had to hope for the best.

She envied the pair, getting to Hawaii before the rest of them, but they would earn it by their efforts. Hopefully they wouldn't have to row all the way, just into the shipping lanes.

Ginger wished there was a way to communicate with them. If only there were portable phones that you could just call, no matter where someone was. But then of course the seven of them would never have been marooned for eight years. Even when they had had access to a phone cable, it hadn't worked very well for them, and then it got washed out to sea in a storm before they reached anyone that believed them.

She always used to think that the first person she'd call would be her agent, but would he want to manage her after all this time? After all, she was eight years older. She assumed she was still attractive, judging from how the men on the island liked to look at her, but then none of them had ever made any serious advances, so maybe she wasn't as attractive as she used to be.

Well, she was still a good actress. Of course, she hadn't had much chance to act in recent years. Just the very amateur productions with the other castaways.

Ginger shook her head. She needed to be positive. It would be good to be rescued and she could rebuild her career. If nothing else, the notoriety of being shipwrecked for so long would bring publicity that she could use until she had a chance to prove herself again.

Meanwhile, she was the island chef now and would focus on that.


	3. Donkey Work

"It's getting dark," Mary Ann observed, "maybe we can stop paddling now."

Gilligan set down his paddles with relief. They'd done their best that day, trying to make what progress they could without wearing themselves out. They had a long journey ahead of them, even if it was just to the shipping lanes rather than Hawaii.

They'd taken a break for lunch and had napped in turn. Mary Ann had found it surprisingly easy to drop off, the boat gently rocking her. She was sure it would be even easier at night.

Sometimes they'd talked but it was hard to think of much to say, when they saw each other every day and there were none of the other castaways as buffers or subjects. Also, she felt more self-conscious around Gilligan now that he was her husband, even more so since the marriage was not yet consummated and might not be for weeks. He had tried to get her to sing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," but she felt too silly. Mostly they saved their energy for the canoe.

At first, the scenery was lovely and it was wonderful to see their island from a distance, a rare sight indeed. But it made her feel homesick after awhile, even if they were just that much closer to Kansas. Well, not as the crow flies, since the island was southeast of Hawaii and so their course was northwest. But she was closer to getting back to Kansas.

She remembered a dream she had soon after the shipwreck. She was Dorothy in _The Wizard of Oz._ The Skipper was the Lion, blustering but sometimes scared. The Professor was the Tin Man, inventive and brave but needing a heart. And Gilligan was the Scarecrow, clumsy but smarter than he or anyone realized. Mrs. Howell was Glinda, scatter-brained but powerful. Mr. Howell was the Wizard, putting on a show but a fraud underneath it all. And Ginger, although becoming her best friend in real life, was the Wicked Witch. When Mary Ann woke, she half expected to see Uncle George and Aunt Martha kneeling beside her bed at home.

Returning to Kansas wasn't as simple as clicking her heels together and saying, "There's no place like home." Even when Gilligan had three magic wishes, it hadn't been simple. That it was now up to her, her and Gilligan, was intimidating of course, but also exciting. She was proud of herself just for trying.

When they reached the open sea, with no land in sight in any direction, not even one of the neighboring islands where the natives lived, she felt a different kind of loneliness. It was as if she and Gilligan were the last two people on earth. She had to keep reminding herself that life was going on, much as normal, back on their island, just as she had had to remind herself while on the island that the United States and the whole rest of the world still existed. She wished they'd been able to take along the radio, but of course the others would need it back on the island, so they'd know when she and Gilligan were rescued.

Now, for the first time in a very long time, she was seeing the sunset over an unfamiliar landscape, or rather seascape. The sunsets on the farm were obvious, with that clear, smooth horizon. On the island, depending on where she was, the sun might disappear into the ocean, or behind trees and/or hills.

She again faced a clear, almost smooth horizon, but the green was very different than grass. And there were no buildings or fences or anything to break it up. Instead, the reds and oranges, and after awhile purples, of the sky bled into the bottle-green of the gentle waves. It was gorgeous but a little frightening. She wished that they could dock on a little island for the night, feel a little more rooted.

They couldn't even anchor the canoe because an anchor would've been too heavy and they were out in waters that were too deep. They would just have to drift at night and hope that they wouldn't get too far off course. Gilligan had suggested he paddle at night, but that was just as likely to get them off course, with no landmarks to guide them. Yes, there were the stars, but what about the cloudy nights? She thought it was better that they both paddle in the daytime, and use the nights for well earned sleep.

She didn't think any of their nights in the canoe would be spent as honeymoon nights should be spent, not after the disappointment of her wedding night. If it hadn't happened on land, it probably wouldn't happen at sea, especially not when so many of their muscles ached. They would probably snuggle—it would be hard to avoid that in such a narrow space—but that would be it.

"Are you hungry?"

Gilligan nodded. She knew it was a foolish question. Of course he was hungry. When was Gilligan not hungry? Sometimes he ate more than even the Skipper, although he was still almost as skinny as the day they landed on the island. And he had been working up an appetite, as she had.

The Professor had found some canned food for them to take, but she decided to save that for last. It was more urgent to eat the food that would spoil in the next few days or weeks. So that meant the fruits and vegetables mostly.

"Do you mind salad for dinner?" That was what they had had for lunch.

"That's fine. But maybe tomorrow I'll start catching fish, even though we'll have to eat it raw."

She nodded. That would at least put more variety in their diet.

It didn't take long to prepare the dinner, a fruit salad and a vegetable salad, especially since it was for only two people. It was strange to think that she would no longer be making meals for groups. Even on the farm, she had helped her aunt cook for the family and all the farmhands. She would miss it, but maybe she and Gilligan would have a big family. She didn't feel ready to ask him if he wanted children. Maybe once their marriage was consummated, she could bring it up.

After dinner, which they ate without croutons or dressing because the Professor had dismissed those as luxury items, Gilligan offered to do the dishes, which in this case meant scraping them off into the sea. He almost dunked them, but she reminded him that they'd have no easy way to remove the salty taste. (They would need to save the soap for themselves and their clothes.)

She didn't think they'd need to worry about germs from the dishes, if it was just the two of them. And if either of them got sick, well, the other was bound to catch it in anyway in that small space. She obviously hoped they would both stay well. The first aid kit was very no-frills, and the last thing she wanted was to be sick or to take care of a sick person in the middle of the ocean.

She unrolled her bedroll. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm very tired."

"OK. You get some rest, Mary Ann, and I'll stay up and keep watch through the night."

"Gilligan, don't be silly. You need to rest just as much as I do."

"Well, OK, I'll rest, but I won't sleep, just in case."

"Gilligan, we need to talk."

"Talk? But I thought you were going to sleep."

"That's what I want to talk about." They needed to clear the air on this, now, before things got even more confused between them.

"About sleep?"

"About sleeping together. Not sleeping together, but sleeping together"

"Huh?"

She sighed. "Gilligan, I don't know what the Skipper or your father or anyone has told you, but sleeping in the same room with your wife is perfectly normal."  
"But we're not in a room. We're in a canoe."

"It's the same idea. You see, well, there are certain things that married people do together, which we don't have to do yet, and they probably wouldn't be very comfortable in a canoe anyway."

"What certain things?"

Blushing, she said, "Things they do without clothes."

"Naked?" His voice broke like he was half his age.

"Yes. And that's what drains your energy. Not sleeping next to someone."

"Oh. So we just have to keep our clothes on and we'll be OK?"

She was too embarrassed to explain further, and maybe this was enough for the first talk. "That's right. So please, Gilligan, lie down next to me and cuddle me."

"With our clothes on?"

"Yes."

"Great! I'd love to do that. Could we kiss, too?"

She smiled. "Yes, we can kiss, too."

He unrolled his bedroll and they used it as a top layer, with her roll as the bottom layer. She could still feel the planks of the canoe underneath but it felt nice to have protection against the night breezes. And Gilligan, despite his thin body, radiated warmth, so it was wonderful to have him hold her close.

She knew this might lead to more, no matter how tired and achy they were, but she thought it would be silly to try and avoid touching each other in this little space. And if it did lead to more, well, that would hardly be a disaster.

"Mmm, Mary Ann, you're so soft."

"Thank you, Gilligan."

"Your body. And also your lips."

He kissed her and she kissed back. It was a long kiss and it occurred to her that no one could interrupt them. For perhaps the only time in their lives, they were completely alone. A part of her wished they could drift forever, although of course they'd run out of food. But she couldn't help hoping they wouldn't be rescued the first week.

"Goodnight, Mary Ann," he said when the kiss ended. Then he turned his back to her.

She was surprised at the abruptness, but maybe he was right. Perhaps this should be their goodnight kiss. They would have another long day of paddling tomorrow.

"Goodnight, Gilligan."


	4. Linguistics

The Professor knew that it was too soon to start manning the old look-out tower. Gilligan and Mary Ann had just set out the day before. Nonetheless, there was a very slight chance that they'd been seen by a plane flying overhead, or a ship sailing off course, and already sent someone back for the rest of the castaways. In any case, there was no harm in looking.

To his surprise, he thought he saw a boat. He refocused the binoculars in case it was the rising sun reflecting off the water. No, it was a boat. In fact, it was a canoe! For a moment he thought it was Gilligan and Mary Ann coming back, but as the canoe drew closer he could see that there two men inside, both with dark skin.

Natives from the neighboring islands! Perhaps they came in peace but you could never be sure. He saw another canoe approaching, so he scrambled down from the look-out tower to greet them. The Skipper knew some South Seas languages, but not as many as the Professor did. And the Howells and Ginger knew none of course.

By the time he got to the lagoon, the Professor saw the Skipper trying to communicate with the two men, as the other canoe was just coming into sight.

"Professor, thank goodness you're here! They keep pointing at my belly! I think they want to eat me!"

The Professor knew better than to laugh. The natives weren't necessarily cannibals, but if they were, the Skipper would definitely make the best meal of the castaways.

One of the natives, who seemed to be wearing a chief's headdress, addressed the Professor. Luckily it was a dialect of a language he knew, from the Wasabi tribe.

"Hello, can you understand me?"

"Yes, I can. What do you want with my friend?"

"It's not what I want. It's what they want."

The man pointed at the other canoe. The Professor could now distinguish that there were three beautiful native girls inside.

"What do they want with him?"

"We have heard tales from other islands that a fat man lived here. And we see now that the tales are true."

The Professor tried not to smile, especially since there was still the possibility of cannibalism.

"My friend is stout, but why does this concern you? Or the young ladies?"

"On our island, fatness is a sign of virility.* We hope to take him back with us, so that he may be husband to my daughters, the princesses."

The Professor could see that this man was himself plump. He wondered if this would mean that the Skipper would be the chief's successor. He wondered how the Skipper would feel about that.

"Professor, what is he saying about me?" the Skipper asked nervously.

The Professor hesitated before relaying the conversation. He didn't want to offend the Skipper by calling him fat, even if it was secondhand. "This man, whom I believe to be the chief, wants you as his son-in-law."

"Yeah?" The Skipper smiled at the three lovely native girls, whose canoe was now reaching the shore. "Which one would I marry?"

"Uh, well, all three."  
"All three?!"

"Unless I misunderstood." The Professor cleared his throat.

"Just to be clear. Are these maidens your daughters and do you wish him to marry all three?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well?"

"It's all three."

"Good. I would hate to have to choose!"

The Professor felt that he needed to speak to both the chief and the Skipper at greater length. This was too sudden, as sudden as Gilligan and Mary Ann's marriage a couple days before. He wanted to ask the chief if they had any interaction with civilization. He also wanted to know what exactly the terms were for this marriage. And he wanted to make sure this was something that the Skipper really wanted. Yes, the princesses were gorgeous, but the Skipper knew nothing about them. It would've been like if the Professor had married Ginger on the three-hour cruise and then found out that she was vain and spoiled, like most actresses.

Ginger arrived, as if she sensed he was thinking about her, although fortunately she'd never had that ability before. (The "sunflower seeds" of ESP aside of course, when he'd done his best to convince her that 36-22-36 did not mean what she assumed.) "I'm guessing this is not the rescue party Gilligan and Mary Ann have sent back."

The Professor quickly explained.

Ginger laughed. "Another wedding! Mrs. Howell will be pleased, although I don't know if the chief will let her do much of the planning."

"What chief? What wedding?" Mrs. Howell, complete with parasol, had appeared.

The Professor explained yet again.

"What, all three of them? Impossible! I can't allow that!"

"Now wait just a doggone minute, Mrs. Howell," the Skipper said indignantly. "It's one thing to push around a boy like Gilligan, but I'm a grown man and I can decide who I get married to!"

"Oh, really? And are you going to take your three wives back to the United States? Because I think you'll find that polygamy is still frowned upon in civilized nations."

She had a point and the look of surprise on the Skipper's face showed that he hadn't considered that.

"Why is the woman in the funny blue hat upset?"

"It is not our custom to marry more than one person at a time."

"Oh, we're not asking that."

"You're not?"

"No, first there is a ceremony where he marries the firstborn. And then there is a ceremony where he marries the second princess. And last he will marry my youngest daughter."

The Professor's three friends demanded to know what he and the chief were saying. He sighed and said, "I think we should discuss this over breakfast. Ginger, I hope you made enough for five guests."

"Oh, I'm not cooking today. Mr. Howell wanted to try his hand at it."

"Mr. Howell?"

"Yes, Thurston has some recipes he's been dying to test."  
"Wonderful," the Professor muttered.

.

.

*The word literally meant "man-stuff."


	5. Johnson

**Author's Note: This is sort of an M-rated chapter in K-rated terms. Please let me know if you think I should change the story rating at this time. Otherwise, I'll hold off till Chapter Nine.**

When Gilligan woke the morning after his first night in the canoe with Mary Ann, he realized that exactly what he was afraid of happening had happened. The only good thing about it was he was still facing away from Mary Ann and, from the sound of her breathing, she was still asleep.

His father had long ago explained this condition to him. He said it happened when he (Gilligan, not his father) was thinking too much about girls. So Gilligan would do his best not to think about girls, which was one reason why he joined the Navy. He thought if he were surrounded by men all the time, then he wouldn't think about girls so much. The problem was some of the fellas had pin-ups of girls on their walls and all of the fellas talked about girls. And it turned out that there were women in the Navy, and even if there hadn't been, there were women on shore.

Gilligan did his best to cover his eyes when he walked by the pin-ups (even if he did bump into things) and he covered his ears when the other fellas talked about girls. And when he ran into a WAVE, he'd try to salute her with just his arm. As for shore leave, well, he read a lot of comic books. (Although even there, he had to be careful, because there are sometimes girls in comics.)

He did OK until he got shipwrecked with two beautiful girls. And one of them kept kissing him! Especially in the first few months they were on the island. And this wasn't just any beautiful girl. This was Ginger Grant the movie star! She had put him in this condition even before they met, which was one reason he'd make sure to have a big tub of popcorn in his lap, so no one else in the movie theater would notice.

That she usually wanted something from him, other than hugs and kisses, didn't keep him from being affected by her. The only defense he had was to knock himself out. Luckily, there was usually a handy palm tree or, if they were indoors, a post of the hut. Then she'd go away and leave him. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was the best he had. And she didn't do it nearly as often these days, although she had kissed him a lot for finding this canoe.

Meanwhile, there was a less aggressive girl, one who wore short-shorts and halter tops, so he could sometimes see her navel. She didn't seem aware of the effect her bare skin had on him. She would sometimes hug and kiss him, too, not as often, but usually just for the fun of hugging and kissing, rather than for some sneaky reason. She could put him in this condition, too.

Gilligan would go for swims in the lagoon, when possible. That usually calmed him down. Or he'd do his exercises, push-ups and stuff. These weren't perfect solutions either. When it got really bad, he'd find someplace private on the island and touch himself until the condition went away. But of course it wasn't always easy to find privacy on the island.

Still, it was more than he was going to have on this canoe. Yesterday, while Mary Ann was napping and he was trying not to think about how cute she looked curled up like that, he'd carefully lowered himself over the side of the canoe and taken a quick plunge, trying not to rock the boat too much, or splash too much.

He supposed he'd have to do the same now, since obviously he couldn't touch himself in front of her. Never mind that married people did something mysterious naked together. He wasn't ready to take off any of his clothes with her. Not only did he feel shy, but it apparently would sap his energy.

He went in fully dressed. The water was bitterly cold at dawn, unlike the afternoon, when it wasn't too bad. He shivered but at least it cured his condition. He'd do his best not to think anymore about kissing and cuddling with her. He didn't stay in the water too long, and then he carefully climbed back into the canoe.

"Gilligan, what are you doing?"

Uh oh, Mary Ann was awake. "Uh, just taking a nice, refreshing dip in the ocean."  
"At daybreak?"

"Yeah, it's a great way to wake up."  
"Uh, if you say so. Oh, Gilligan, you're shivering!"

"I'll be OK. I just need to dry out in the sunshine."

"Gilligan, you know what the Skipper said."

"Uh, about what?"

"In sickness and in health. I need to take care of you." She picked up a towel and started vigorously drying him off.  
"Gee, thanks, Mary Ann, but I can do that myself." He grabbed the towel from her. The last thing he needed was her rubbing all over his wet body.

"Suit yourself. I'll start breakfast."

It didn't take her long to make of course, since it was just fruits and vegetables. He wondered if he'd get tired of them after awhile. Well, he could fish later on.

After breakfast, they started paddling again. That definitely dried him out, except when he started sweating. The aches and pains of the day before came back.

"Gilligan, how far do you think we are from the shipping lanes?"

He felt bad for her having to paddle. She was a girl, even if she was strong for her size. "Maybe a couple days. Why don't you work the compass and make sure I'm heading in the right direction? You can rest awhile."  
"Gilligan, we just got started. I will check the compass though." She did and then said, "I think we're on course. Although it's hard to tell this soon in the journey. It'll probably be a long while till we pass land of any significance."

"Yeah." Maybe not even till Hawaii. He had never traveled much in this part of the world before the shipwreck, and of course she hadn't. For the first time, he wished the Skipper were there. Preferably instead of himself and Mary Ann.


	6. Audience

Ginger couldn't help being amused by the situation. It was probably the most unusual breakfast she'd ever had on the island. Not just the food, although Mr. Howell's interpretation of the Peruvian dish ceviche was certainly unique. He said he was inspired by the fact that Gilligan and Mary Ann would be eating raw fish, but rather than serving Japanese sushi, this involved corn on the cob and onions, with the fish marinated in citrus fruit for many hours. He'd apparently started on the meal the day before, and helped himself to the marinating liquid. The fish didn't taste bad actually, but it had a very pungent aroma.

The native family seemed surprised by the food but they were eating it. The Professor of course had to serve as interpreter. So far he'd learned that the island was a day's journey away and it had little contact with the civilized world. They didn't seem to count the castaways as quite civilized, which offended Mrs. Howell at least as much as the polygamy they were offering the Skipper.

The Skipper seemed eager to marry any and every one of the three native girls. Ginger couldn't say she blamed him, considering that his romantic prospects had been even more limited on the island than her own. She and Mary Ann had favored the younger men, and Mrs. Howell was married and probably not his type anyway. He'd had a schoolboy crush on Erika Tiffany Smith, but she had fallen, temporarily thank goodness, for the Professor. (Ginger had felt threatened by this rich woman, but when the Professor came to her for romantic advice, she happily seized the opportunity rather than just telling him to recite poetry, as she'd advised the Skipper.)

The Skipper probably would never get a chance like this again, to be loved because of, not in spite of, his weight. But did this mean that he'd already given up on Gilligan and Mary Ann saving them, after only a day? Or did he figure he'd have his fun while waiting to be rescued? Did this tribe believe in divorce? What if they tried to kill him if he wanted to leave his wife, or wives?

And if the Skipper left them, even temporarily, what would life be like without him? They hadn't even had time to adjust to losing Gilligan and Mary Ann. Yes, soon they would all hopefully be back in the U.S., but she hadn't expected to be divided further before then. The Skipper was their unofficial leader, even if Mr. Howell sometimes acted like he was, and even if the Professor was the one who quietly saved them so often.

And she would miss the Skipper as a person, too, of course. His warmth and his infectious laughter. He was like a big teddy bear, even though he could be grizzly with Gilligan.

She wondered if Gilligan's departure was actually one of the reasons the Skipper wanted to marry the native girls, besides the obvious reasons. After all, even though he'd hopefully see Gilligan again, their father-son-like relationship would have to change now that Gilligan was married. Maybe the Skipper didn't want to be alone, and even a girl, or trio of girls, who didn't speak English would be welcome company for the middle-aged bachelor.

"I think I'm going to have to come up with a small phrasebook before he leaves," the Professor told Ginger in an aside. "That is, if he leaves. Otherwise, I don't know how he's going to communicate."

"He can use the international language," she said, batting her eyelashes.

"Esperanto?"

She sighed. He was doing his best to prove her favorite language wasn't as universal as she'd like.

"Well," Mr. Howell said impatiently, "isn't anyone going to say anything about my cooking?"

The native chief said something, which the Professor translated as, "The chief likes it but thinks it's an odd choice for breakfast."

"It is a shade unconventional, Darling," Mrs. Howell said.

"Me? I'm unconventional? I'm not the one trying to marry three women at once!"

"Now, see here, Mr. Howell—" the Skipper began.

"I have a question," Ginger asked.

Everyone looked at her.

"Is it necessary for the Skipper to marry all three of the princesses? I mean, do their customs require it?"

The Professor posed this question to the chief, who thought it over, discussed it with his family, and then replied.

"He says that it's not required but marrying only one would be viewed as odd, if not improper. However, seeing as the Skipper is, pardon me, 'an ignorant savage,' they'd be willing to make allowances."

"What an understanding father-in-law," the Skipper said huffily.

Ginger asked, "Would it be all right with you, Mr. and Mrs. Howell, if he married just one native girl?"

"What difference does it make what they think? They're not my parents!"

"Please, Skipper. Well, would it?"

"Well, no, I suppose not," Mrs. Howell said, "although this is a bit sudden."

Ginger bit her tongue, considering that Mrs. Howell had orchestrated a marriage between Gilligan and Mary Ann in less than 48 hours.

"I have no objections," Mr. Howell said.

"Well, Skipper," Ginger asked, "how do you feel about it?"

"I'd be happy to marry any of them. Do I get to choose which one?"

The Professor asked the chief and then informed his friends, "He says that there will have to be a contest."  
"A contest? Like when that plump native girl wanted to marry Gilligan and he had to compete against her other suitor?" Mr. Howell asked.

The Professor conferred with the chief again and then said, "No, the girls would compete against each other."

"Compete?" the Skipper said, looking very flattered.

But Mrs. Howell said, "With spears and everything? How un-lady-like!"

"No, it doesn't sound like it's anything life-threatening or even violent."

"And then the winner gets me?" the Skipper said. He didn't seem to mind not getting to choose among the three girls.

"Yes."

"What does the runner-up get?" Mr. Howell asked. If it had been Gilligan asking, it would've been innocently, although the Skipper probably still would've hit Gilligan with his cap. But Mr. Howell asked it with a trace of malice, and all poor Skipper could do was glare at him.

Then Mrs. Howell asked, "So once this silly contest for the Skipper's affections is settled, will we be invited to the wedding?"

The Professor asked about that, presumably not translating the word "silly." The chief replied and then the Professor told them, "He is very sorry, but as we aren't related to the groom, we aren't allowed to attend."

Ginger was disappointed, since she imagined that the wedding would be very interesting. Mrs. Howell looked disappointed, too, since a wedding is a wedding, although Ginger doubted Mrs. Howell would've been that comfortable at a native wedding. Mr. Howell looked indifferent, but then he hadn't even been that enthusiastic about Gilligan and Mary Ann getting married, although he'd known them both for years and had even "adopted" Gilligan at one point. As for the Professor, he did seem disappointed, although Ginger suspected it was mostly for anthropological reasons. If the girls had wanted to marry him, which Ginger was very glad they didn't, he might've actually gone along with it, just as a chance to live among and study their tribe.

Ginger wished she could tell Mary Ann about all this, curious to see what the sensible farm girl would think. They would hopefully be reunited in a few weeks, but by then the Skipper would probably be happily married to whichever of the native princesses won him.


	7. Coop

It was only the second day of their voyage and already Mary Ann was having trouble remembering what normal life was like. There were moments when it felt like she'd always been here in the canoe, out on the ocean with no landmark in sight, with no other company but Gilligan. She imagined it would've been a very lonely journey for one person, but there were definite complications when it was two.

For one thing, well, it was embarrassing even to think about, let alone talk about, but there was the problem of relieving herself. The Skipper had provided them with a bedpan, but there wasn't much privacy to use it. She and Gilligan had fallen into the habit of signalling the other when they had to go, and the other person would cover his or her ears and close his or her eyes for a few minutes. Mary Ann would wish again and again that they were in a hotel suite, or even back on the island, where she could just use the ladies' outhouse.

She didn't know how she would manage it when her period came, but hopefully they would be rescued long before then. The idea of drifting forever with Gilligan had been a very romantic one the night before, yet these practical details had to be considered. Even brushing her teeth in front of Gilligan made her feel self-conscious, but it seemed silly to ask for privacy for that.

There was also the question of sleepwear. Back on the island, she slept in just panties and one of the Professor's old shirts, which was still more than Ginger slept in. (It had been very shocking at first, when she found out that the actress slept in the nude, although she was used to it by now.) Had this been a real honeymoon, Mary Ann might've slept in a negligee, one that Ginger or Mrs. Howell had given her. (She'd left the trousseau behind of course, but it could presumably be picked up by whoever rescued their friends and their belongings.) But she felt too shy to wear anything revealing with Gilligan in the canoe. And he was sleeping in his clothes, like he had on the island, even down to his white tennis shoes.

She was wearing the same outfit she'd worn the day before. At some point they would have to change their clothes. As for bathing, she supposed they'd have to do that in the ocean. Perhaps that was why Gilligan had taken his early morning dip, even if it was fully clothed.

She couldn't help thinking how much easier all this would've been if they were an old married couple like the Howells. Well, maybe not the Howells, since rich people were different and probably never quite relaxed around each other. But like her Uncle George and Aunt Martha. George would burp at the dinner table, and Martha would scold him, but also take it as a compliment to her cooking. If they'd been sent out in the canoe together, they wouldn't have felt the slightest bit shy or self-conscious.

If Mary Ann had thought this through more, if she hadn't been swept along by the plans of the others, she would've put her foot down. She wouldn't have gone on this voyage at all, married or not. It was unfair of the others to expect her and Gilligan to live so intimately. Compared to all these possibilities for embarrassment, the physical labor of paddling a canoe, sometimes under the hot sun, was nothing.

Well, it was too late now. She was here and there was no going back, unless she asked Gilligan to turn the canoe around and take her home. And she couldn't do that. Her friends were depending on her. And the men would probably think it proved something about women not being able to do a man's job, when in fact she'd probably be more comfortable paddling the canoe by herself.

No, that would be too lonely. Better to risk some humiliation than to make this journey by herself. And it wasn't as if she and Gilligan were strangers. Yes, he was a man and she was a woman, but he understood her dilemma and seemed to feel the same. They would get through this, together.

After all, they had made a lifetime commitment, for better or for worse. It wasn't a commitment that either of them had expected to make a week before, but they had made it. And certainly other couples had faced greater struggles than this. Look at her parents, with her father bankrupted by a man he trusted! Compared to that, having to tinkle in front of Gilligan was nothing.

They'd been paddling in silence for what felt like hours, when he said, "Do you want to take a nap while I fish?"

She nodded. She could use a break. "Thank you." She lay down, using only the lower bed-roll, since the day was warm. "And then you can nap while I cook, I mean prepare, whatever you catch."

"What if I catch an old boot?" he joked.

She laughed. "Well, that would provide us with protein."

He smiled. "Or I could catch another canoe. That would give us fiber."

She smiled back. In some ways, she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather be on this voyage with. She was still smiling when she fell asleep.


	8. Anthropology

"You're sure this is what you want?"

The Skipper nodded. "And not just for the, well, female companionship. There are things I miss about civilization, but we have been away a long time. And I'm not getting any younger. It might not be so easy for me to start all over again, get a new ship, a new first mate."  
"I'm sure Gilligan would be happy to work for you again."  
"Well, maybe, but he's a family man now. Ready to settle down. So maybe I should, too. And what nicer way to take early retirement than to live on a beautiful tropical island with, well."

"Female companionship?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's your decision." The Professor was aware that Gilligan and Mary Ann, however happy to be married they now were or would become, hadn't decided on it themselves. And there was no compelling reason for the Skipper to marry any of the native girls. No one's rescue depended on it. "I hope you won't regret it."  
The Skipper chuckled. "Me, too."

"Listen, why don't you take a couple empty bottles, some sheets of paper, and a pen? Just in case."

"In case I need to be rescued?" The Skipper chuckled again.

"Or if you want to take your bride back to civilization when the rest of us are rescued."

The Skipper nodded. "I will. Of course, I don't even know which one of the girls I'm marrying, let alone if she'd like civilization. Or how I could communicate with her about it."

"Here." He handed the Skipper the small phrasebook he'd drawn up in the last hour. "This will get you started, and you should be able to pick up more of their language, and teach your wife some English, as time goes on."

"Gee, thanks, Professor, you think of everything! I don't know how we all would've survived without you all these years."

The Professor waved his hand dismissively. "I didn't do that much." Not as much as he'd once hoped to do. He'd never finished writing any of the books he did research for. He never got the transmitter to work well enough for them to be rescued. And he never figured out a way to fix the gaping hole in the _Minnow._

"You did enough. You know, Gilligan was, is, my best friend, but you were the one I could most count on."

"Thank you." The Professor understood. There were many times when the two of them had planned things for the good of their tiny community. Ginger had scolded him in recent years for keeping too many secrets, and she had a point, like the time he thought the island was sinking. But it had been so easy to be a team with the Skipper, who, some superstitions aside, was the person on the island with the most common sense.

The Skipper hesitated and then hugged the Professor, who was caught off guard. He wasn't himself demonstrative, but he returned the hug after the surprise wore off a little. Neither man said that he would miss the other but it was true, in a different way than they each missed Gilligan.

The Skipper patted the Professor on the back and then let go. "Well, I guess I'd better pack up the 'stationery set' and get ready to head out." He tapped the empty bottles together.

The Professor nodded and got a sack for the paper, pen, and phrasebook. "I'll meet you down at the lagoon in a few minutes, Skip."

After the Skipper left, the Professor mused on how in a matter of a couple days the island's population had been cut almost in half. Well, to 57.14%. Now it would be just the Howells, himself, and Ginger.

If he had been a superstitious man, he might think that Fate was nudging him towards Ginger. And certainly he'd been tempted this week, with all the fuss over Gilligan and Mary Ann's wedding and related matters. But the main reason for his hesitation hadn't changed. He still feared that Ginger would view a dalliance with him as simply a time-passer till they were rescued. Yes, she'd been more attentive than usual ever since the canoe arrived, but maybe she felt that seducing him was unfinished business, something to cross off her list before she went back to Hollywood.

He supposed he needed to speak directly to her about this, but talking directly wasn't his strong suit, especially with women. And what if he were completely wrong? What if she had simply been flirting for flirting's sake all these years and there was nothing behind it? He couldn't stand the idea of being so needlessly foolish, and with her of all people. He imagined her laughing about him when she was at a Hollywood party, the egghead with the crush on the movie star.

He asked himself what he would've done if the native girls had preferred him to the Skipper, as Erika Tiffany Smith once had. He couldn't imagine marrying a stranger. And if he wanted "female companionship," well, there was possibly Ginger.

He shook his head. The important thing now was to wait for the rescue party. He would take up his teaching career again. Try to get back to the life he'd had eight years before. Maybe the notoriety of the shipwreck would be to his benefit, help him to find work, although he'd rather succeed on his own merits of course. Really, what he most wanted to do was to be left alone to pursue his research. How ironic that he would never again have the freedom he'd had on this island, despite the constant interruptions by the other castaways, particularly Gilligan.

He decided that he would start organizing his notes the next day, in preparation for their hopefully imminent departure. And if, for some reason, the rescue was delayed, well, that would be all the more time for research.

He didn't let himself think about how this would also mean more time to wonder what, if anything, to do about Ginger.


	9. Sherwood

Gilligan was dreaming of Mary Ann, definitely not for the first time. Sometimes she was in his dreams but not the center of them. She might be ugly, like in his vampire dream, or she might be beautiful, like in his Wild West dream, or she might even be sexy, like in his _Jack & the Beanstalk _dream. (That French maid's uniform!) And there were the dreams where she was the center. They'd kiss and touch and it would be wonderful, except of course it would put him in that condition.

This dream was different. In this one, he was in the condition while they were hugging and kissing, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to like it!

"Gilligan?"

Uh oh, that seemed to be real life, not his dream. He reluctantly woke up and found that he was cuddling up against her, his front to her back. And his condition was pressed against her short-shorts! But what was she doing in his hammock?

Then he remembered. He was in the canoe, Day Six. And after all those nights of carefully trying to sleep facing away from her, he seemed to have rolled over during the night.

"Gilligan, are you awake?"

He thought of pretending he wasn't, like he sometimes did with the Skipper, when the Skipper had a job for him or wanted to talk about something Gilligan didn't want to talk about. But it was one thing to fool someone in the hammock under you and another to fool the person wrapped in the same bedrolls.

"Uh, yeah."

"I wondered, because you seem, well, excited."

Excited? Mostly he felt scared, worried that she'd be mad at him for touching her when he was in this condition. "No, not really."

"Gilligan, it's OK. I'm flattered. In fact, I was starting to wonder."

"Wonder?"

She rolled over to face him. "Gilligan, again, I don't know what your father or the Skipper or anyone has told you. But this is normal."

"This?"

She glanced down at his crotch, and he could feel himself blushing.

"Oh, that. Normal?"

"Yes, it happens to all men."

"It does?" He'd never realized. Why were other men so comfortable around women then? Maybe it was that they knew it was normal, while he'd thought it was just his weird condition.

She smiled, so sweetly. "Yes, that's what I've heard. Not that I've ever seen it." Now she blushed.

"Oh, you wouldn't want to see it!" He shuddered at the idea. "I mean, I'm used to it and I still think it looks all weird when it gets swollen."

Still blushing, she said, "Actually, Gilligan, I would like to see it sometime."

"You would?" Gosh, she was nice! He would've thought a girl would've been too squeamish to look at it, but he knew she was just saying that because she was his friend. Well, more than a friend now.

"Yes, I would. But first, would you like to see my, my chest?"

He felt like he was going to faint, even though he was lying down. "Mary Ann, that's not going to help my condition!"

She laughed softly. "Well, no, not right away. But since you're already, well, in that condition, there can't be any harm. Unless you don't want to see it."

"I would love to see it!" he shouted and then clapped his hand over his mouth.

She smiled. "Gilligan, nobody can hear you."

"I forgot. But I didn't mean to shout at you." He whispered, "Can I really see it?"

"Of course, Gilligan. We are married after all."

"Oh, right. But, wait, if you take off some of your clothes, won't that drain our energy?"

"Not right away. We'll do this step by step."

"OK. Whatever you say. You know more about this than I do."

"Not from experience. I've never taken off my clothes in front of a man before, except of course a doctor."  
Gilligan suddenly wished he had a medical degree.

"But I would like to take off my blouse in front of you. If you'd like me to."

He couldn't speak, so he just nodded fervently. She smiled and sat up. She took off her top and he could see her in one of those undergarments that he'd sometimes see Ginger hanging up when she did the laundry. It was white with a bit of lace, and it wasn't as revealing as a bikini top but he knew it was more intimate. He thought it looked much better hugging her chest than it did drying in the breeze.

"Well, Gilligan?"

"Gee, you're pretty, Mary Ann!" he blurted out.

"Thank you," she said softly. Then she lay down next to him and kissed him.

His condition was getting worse than ever, but in a way he didn't mind. At least she didn't seem to mind it, and he could jump in the water now without having to explain. Then she held his hand, which was nice and didn't get him more "excited." At least not until she moved the hand onto her chest!

"Mary Ann!"

She kissed his cheek. "It's OK, Gilligan. Relax."

"But I don't know what to do. Do you want me to hold them? Should I use both hands?"

She smiled. "Let's just start with one. There are a few different things you can do."

"Like what?" He felt scared and nervous but also, well, excited.

"Well, to begin with, you can cup it in your hand from underneath."

"OK." He moved his hand under one of her, gulp, one of her breasts and then carefully curved his fingers to try to match the shape.

"Mmm, that's nice."  
"Yeah," he breathed.

She smiled. "I like how gentle you are."

"Of course I'm gentle, Mary Ann. You're a girl!"

She laughed. "Yes. And you're a very sweet boy."  
"Thank you. What should I do now?"

"I'd like it if you could keep holding me like that but stroke back and forth with your thumb."

"OK." He did, his thumb almost reaching to the part with the bare skin. He looked at her face and she was smiling in a way he'd never seen before, sort of nervous and contented at the same time. "Is this OK?"

"It's wonderful!" she breathed.

"Can I touch the part in the middle?" he got up enough courage to ask.

"My cleavage?"

"Yeah, that." She didn't show it off as much as Ginger did, but then Ginger was shyer about showing off her stomach and legs. This just made him more curious about Mary Ann's cleavage though.

"I'd like that," she said softly.

So he slowly moved his hand over and onto the uncovered middle part. Now he could touch both breasts at once, as well as the valley between them. He and Mary Ann both sighed happily and then smiled at each other.

Then they kissed and hugged, leaving his one hand between them. Her hand joined it and moved it into the undergarment. What was it called? Oh yeah, her bazaar. He gasped at how very soft her skin was, except for the little bump at the front, which was surprisingly hard. And then he felt her heart beating against his hand. It was amazing! He had no words to tell her this, so he used his mouth for more kissing.

In a way he wanted to do this all day, but he didn't know how much longer he could stand it. His jeans felt very tight and he didn't want to take them off in front of her, not yet. Also, they should probably do some paddling, since the whole reason they were out in the canoe was to rescue themselves and their friends.

"Gilligan," she said in a shaky voice, "maybe this is something we should explore more at night."

He nodded. "Yeah. Uh, if you don't mind, I'm going to take a quick dip."

She smiled as if she understood. She sat up and splashed some water onto her face, as if she needed to cool off, although it was still early in the morning.


	10. Leading Man

Gilligan and Mary Ann had been gone for five days, the Skipper for four. (His message in a bottle had washed ashore, assuring them he was fine and the wedding would be soon, probably by the time they got the message.) Life went on, not the same as before, but it went on. The Professor had taken over the fishing on the island, and Ginger did most of the cooking, unless Mr. Howell felt like experimenting again. Mostly he and Mrs. Howell sat on their deck chairs, as if waiting for Gilligan to bring them drinks with little umbrellas. There had been a time when Ginger would've done it, back when she cleaned the Howells' hut in hopes that Mr. Howell would help her career when they returned home, but she no longer bothered to do anything extra. It wasn't bearable without Mary Ann at her side.

She couldn't believe how quickly the loneliness had set in. And it wasn't as if she were all alone on the island. But the three warmest, nicest people were gone. She'd never been close to the Howells and, much as she cared for the Professor, it was very hard to get him to open up about anything. She reminded herself that she would be back in Hollywood soon, maybe in a week, maybe in a month. But then she realized that she had had no real friends there, and her shallow friendships would probably be impossible to revive after so long away.

She was hanging the laundry on the line. There was less to do than usual because it was for only four people, not seven. And she didn't realize she was crying until she reached out for one of the Professor's shirts to dry her eyes on.

"Would you prefer a handkerchief?" the Professor gently asked. She hadn't heard him approach.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm supposed to be drying out your shirt, not soaking it."

He didn't laugh at her feeble joke. Instead he asked, "Would you like to talk about it?"

She wanted to cry on his broad shoulders and not talk about anything. And how could she tell him what was bothering her when he was part of what was bothering her?

Then she found herself confessing, "I don't know. I guess I'm just lonely."

"Lonely?"

"Yes, you wouldn't understand. You like being alone. But I miss the others. Especially when I go back to my dark, empty hut and there's no one to talk to."

"I do understand," he said quietly. "In fact, I think I have a solution."

"A solution?" How could he solve her loneliness? He couldn't bring back the Skipper, or speed up Gilligan and Mary Ann's voyage.

"Yes, I'll show you tonight, if I can stop by an hour after dinner."

Was he offering what she hoped for, longed for? Impossible, after all this time. And she didn't want him coming to her out of pity. She reminded herself that this was the Professor, he never thought in those terms. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Good. Excuse me, I've got something to attend to right now."

"Of course."

He didn't head towards the lagoon, although he was carrying bait and a fishing rod. Instead he headed back to the huts.

She wondered what he had to attend to and if it was related to the "solution." She felt comforted already. He'd given what sympathy he was capable of, and it was foolish to want more. She finished hanging up the laundry and then started thinking about what she could serve for dinner if the Professor didn't catch any fish that day.

She decided on Spamburgers, since she'd come across some cans of Spam that were about to expire. She served them on rolls that Mary Ann had made before her departure, with lettuce as the only topping. Neither of the Howells cared for the meal but she bit her tongue as they complained. She was doing her best and it bothered her that they hadn't taken on much of the work, leaving almost all of it to her and the Professor. She was tempted to say that Mr. Howell could take over the cooking full-time, not just when he had a whim to. But she didn't want to quarrel. There were so few of them now and it was more important than ever to get along.

The Professor gave her a quick, sympathetic look and that helped her keep her temper. He understood, at least a little, how she felt. He was her friend, not a close friend like Mary Ann, but a friend.

After dinner, she did the dishes. Sometimes she and Mary Ann would take turns, and sometimes they'd do them together, one washing and the other drying. She decided she would get a roommate when she got back to Hollywood. She didn't want to live alone.

She went back to her hut to wait for the Professor. She thought of changing her clothes, freshening her hair and makeup, but she decided against it. It wasn't a date. He was just dropping by to talk.

An hour passed, and then another. She decided he wasn't coming. He could be absent-minded at times, caught up in his research. She could go to see him but didn't want to. Instead, she undressed and slipped into bed.

She hadn't always slept in the nude, but it had felt right after she was shipwrecked. Mary Ann used to tease that Ginger had "gone native," even on an uninhabited island. She did feel closer to nature here and she liked feeling the tropical air against her skin. Mosquitoes and other insects were a problem sometimes but netting at the windows helped with that.

Whenever someone woke the girls at night, Ginger would wrap a blanket around herself. No one ever remarked on her bare shoulders and legs, not even Mrs. Howell, although Ginger was sure she disapproved. But Ginger was allowed to be somewhat unconventional because she was an actress.

When she heard the knock that evening, she wrapped the blanket around herself, even though she knew it was probably the Professor. She could probably answer the door naked and he wouldn't notice!

She opened the door. "Hello, Professor."

"Hello, Ginger. I'm sorry I'm late, but it took longer than I thought."

"It?"

He held out a device. "This. It's a night-light."

She couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. Instead she said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He explained that it was a challenge since they had no electricity of course. But he'd recharged a battery and it should last at least till the rescue. "...Research has shown that light therapy makes a difference. Even a small light like this one can improve someone's mood."  
"Well, thank you."

"Is this wall a good place for it?"

She sat on her bed. "Yes, that should be fine."

He attached the light to the wall and she could see its gentle glow. She didn't think it could make up for the emptiness in her heart but there was something a little comforting about it. And she thought maybe this was the best he could offer. He did mean well.

Then she started crying.

"Ginger, what's wrong?" He sounded surprised, and why wouldn't he be? She knew it was crazy to cry over a night-light.

She waved her hand as if waving away the question. She knew she couldn't explain. He would just think she was irrational.

Then he sat beside her and handed her his handkerchief. She tried to smile. "Thank you."

"I know I'm not the best listener, but believe it or not I do have a degree in Psychology."

She knew that. But right then she didn't want his mind or his ear. She wanted his arms. "Could you hold me?" she asked softly.

"Uh, yes, if you like." His arms went awkwardly around her. It wasn't as if they'd never hugged before, but maybe it felt different being alone in her hut at night. And maybe he wasn't as unaware of her nudity under the blanket as she thought.

And then she kissed him. It wasn't like past kisses, trying to get some response out of this unemotional man. She kissed him because she had to, whether or not he returned her feelings. She wanted him to understand what she could never find the words to say, the way she felt about him, unrequited or not.

He kissed back at first but then his mind seemed to reassert itself. He gently pulled away and said, "Ginger, I understand you're lonely, but I don't want to be kissed out of loneliness."

"Professor, I would want to kiss you even if I had Rock Hudson, Cary Grant, and Gregory Peck trying to break down my front door."

"Oh, well, in that case," he said and started kissing her passionately.


	11. Rooster

After they finished their supper of fish and vegetables, Gilligan looked at her as if he was wondering if they were going to get intimate again. She blushed because she'd been wondering the same thing.

They "made their bed," one roll on top of the other, then Gilligan slipped in between. Mary Ann was still sitting and he looked at her face, waiting but not speaking. She hesitated and then took off her top.

"Gee, you sure are pretty, Mary Ann."  
"Thank you, Gilligan," she said softly.

"I like you're bizarre."

"What?" She must've misheard him.

"Your bazaar," he repeated carefully.

She smiled but didn't laugh. "It's called a brassiere, bra for short."  
"Oh, sorry."  
"It's OK." She hesitated again and then said, "Would you like me to take it off?"

"Oh boy!"

She smiled and then unhooked her bra.

"Oh, girl!"

She laughed and then took her bra off. Gilligan's eyes got wide, like he was looking at a coconut cream pie, or two coconut cream pies.

"Wow!"

"Would you like to touch them, Gilligan?"  
"Really?"

"Of course." She was both amused and moved by his shyness. She couldn't imagine any other groom being like this on his honeymoon. And she was glad that he wasn't so shy that he would refuse to touch her.

He reached up and carefully started stroking her breasts. Even more than his caresses that morning, his strokes sent happy shivers all through her.

She glanced at the crotch of his bellbottoms and saw the bulge swell. She really was curious about it, but it seemed best to do things gradually.

Then he surprised her by asking, "Can I kiss your chest?"

She nodded. "I'd like that." She leaned over him and he held one breast in his hand again but this time he brought it towards his mouth. His kisses were as gentle as his touches.

When she let out a little moan, he asked, "I'm sorry, am I hurting you?"

"No, Gilligan, that was a happy moan. That feels really good."

He smiled. "I want you to feel good."

"Thank you."

After awhile, he switched to her other breast. She felt a little guilty that she wasn't bringing him as much pleasure as he was bringing her, but she could see that he was very happy and seemed like he could do this all night.

She decided to lay down next to him so that she could kiss his mouth. He caressed her breasts as they kissed, and then after awhile they started necking. She thought of all the boys back in Kansas who'd tried to get her into haystacks and backseats of cars to do this, but she was glad she had waited for Gilligan. She would rather not have waited eight years, but better late than never.

Gilligan pulled away suddenly. "Mary Ann, I'm sorry, but I need to stop or go in the water."

"I don't want you to do either."

"You don't understand. This really gets to me when we do this. I mean it feels great but it's also driving me crazy."

She bit her lip and then decided that she needed to help him. "Gilligan, do you ever touch yourself?"  
"Of course. How else could I brush my teeth or my hair?"

"No, I mean, well, below the waist."

"Yeah, every time I tie my shoes."  
"Gilligan."

"Oh, uh, you mean." He looked down at his crotch. "Um, yeah, sometimes. Until it goes back to normal."

"Well, would you like me to touch it?"  
"Touch it? I still can't believe you even want to see it!"

She smiled. "Well, I do."

"OK, but don't say I didn't warn you." He undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. And then, clumsily because they were in a canoe and maybe because he was embarrassed, he took down and off his jeans.

She could see that he was wearing boxer shorts that were straining at the front. Part of her was flattered of course and part of her felt sorry for him. Well, she would try to turn his frustration into something pleasant. She had no experience at this of course, and Ginger wasn't around to ask, but Mary Ann would do her best.

"Should I take off my shorts, too?"

"Not just yet."

She kissed him and he kissed back. He was definitely getting more relaxed about kissing. He'd made a lot of progress in the last week. She thought of when his hair had turned white and she had decided to tell him she loved him, in order to make him feel young again. She hadn't really thought about the consequences, what would happen once he was back to normal. A confession of love wouldn't have been easy to retract. But he seemed to barely take in her words. Then she'd kissed him. He'd told her he could feel his arteries hardening. Well, this wasn't an artery this time.

She moved her hand over to his crotch, which was very warm.

"Mary Ann!" he gasped.

"It's OK, Gilligan. Unless you don't want me to touch you," she teased.

"No, I do, but, oh, golly!"

She smiled at his vocabulary, as innocent and as eager as he was. Then she clasped him through his shorts.

His eyes got big again. "Oh, Mary Ann, you're amazing!"  
"Thank you, Gilligan," she said again. "Can I put my hand inside your shorts?"

"Yeah!"  
So she did. His member was solid but flexible. It was going to be a lot of fun to play with. And someday, when they were both ready, it would give her a great deal of pleasure.

"See how weird it is?"

"Oh, Gilligan, I think it's wonderful!"

"You do?"

"Yes, Gilligan. All of you is wonderful." She kissed him and then began stroking and playing with him.

"Oh, Mary Ann, you're the wonderful one!" He started necking with her and playing with her breasts. And he came a minute later.


	12. Biology

The Professor was moved by Ginger's loneliness but that didn't mean he could let his guard down entirely. He still was afraid that she would forget him once they were rescued. And there were other concerns. But it was hard to be calm, cool, and rational when he was sitting on her bed, the gentle glow of the night-light shining on them, and his arms around her. Especially not when one of his theories was confirmed: the red-haired actress indeed slept in the nude.

When she said she would choose him over her favorite movie stars, he gave in. He started kissing her passionately. He wanted to believe her, at least that night.

She seemed startled by his passion at first but then she returned it. She even wrapped her blanket around both of them. He began to caress her bare stomach, marveling at the texture of her skin, so warm and soft and smooth. He didn't know her age—maybe 35?—but her body seemed ageless, and as perfect as when he'd first glimpsed it in a jungle-print swimsuit.

"Is this all right?" he belatedly remembered to ask after a couple minutes.

"It's fantastic!" she sighed.

"Yes, it is," he murmured.

And that was before he moved his hands up to her chest. Beyond perfection.

"Oh God!" she gasped. He didn't know if she was feeling more surprise or pleasure. He was sure his technique wasn't very good. This wasn't something he had very much experience with, and certainly not recently.

Then she started giving him gentle, patient instructions, which was just what he wanted. This was like science, with actions and reactions. Sometimes she would be very specific, such as "Over to the left a quarter inch," and other times she'd make incoherent noises, which he found he was able to interpret as time went on.

And then she guided one of his hands down her stomach and between her legs. Whispering in his ear, she taught him how to pleasure her, a lesson he was eager to learn.

After she climaxed, he told her, "Ginger, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met!" He'd wanted to say that to her for years but had been afraid to.

"Oh, Professor!" she sighed.

"Roy."  
"What?"

"It's Roy. I think we can be on a first-name basis now."

She laughed. "Yes, I think so." Then, blushing, she whispered, "Roy, was I too loud?"

"No, I liked it. Uh, it was very helpful."

She smiled. " 'Helpful.' "

"Well, and sexy, very sexy." He hadn't said that word to her in a very long time, not since he suggested she be sexy for a gorilla they were trying to distract.

"Thank you. But I meant do you think the Howells overheard anything?"

He'd half forgotten the older couple. "I don't think so. Mr. Howell is a sound sleeper."  
"But Mrs. Howell?"

"Mrs. Howell would not approve of my being here."

She laughed softly. "With reason."

"Yes. Ginger, I hope you know I had no intention to—"

"I know, I didn't either. I really was feeling lonely."

"How do you feel now?"

"Fantastic! But eager for more." She batted her long eyelashes and her eyes sparkled like emeralds.  
"Uh, yes, I want to talk to you about that."

She frowned. "Do you think this was a mistake?"  
"No, no, quite the contrary. However, when it comes to 'more,' well."

"Do you think it's something we shouldn't do before we're married? Uh, I mean, as unmarried people."

He ignored her Freudian slip. "No, my morality is not Mrs. Howell's. Or even Mr. Howell's. However, I think there are some practical considerations."

She looked amused that, "Roy" or not, he was still the logical Professor. But she only said, "Such as?"

"Well, first of all, as you noted, the acoustics of these huts, as well as their placement in relation to each other, is such that if you, or for that matter I, were to emit sounds of passion of a high enough volume, the Howells would soon be cognizant of our liaison."  
"Uh, yes, I guess they would."

"And while I am very fond of you, Ginger, I do not want to pressured into marriage with you, by Mrs. Howell or anyone."

"I'm not necessarily looking to get married either. I mean, nothing against marriage. But you and I just got together."

"Right. I mean, I would like something exclusive."

She laughed. "Well, Roy, you don't exactly have any rivals at the moment."

"I mean if this continues after we're rescued."

"I'd like it to."

"Good. Which brings me to my next concern."

"Yes?"

"Well, I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but based on the events of this evening, would it be a fair guess that you would like to have coitus with me?"

"No one's ever called it that to me before, but, yes, I would like that very much."

"As would I. However, I would not want to impregnate you out of wedlock."

"Well, I wouldn't want that either."

"Ginger, this is not really an area of science I'm too familiar with, so I must ask, do you have any form of contraception?"

She sighed. "I was on the Pill when I first got to the island. Not that I was that active, but I wasn't exactly a virgin."

"I didn't expect you to be."

She looked like she didn't know whether to slap him. "Oh?"

"No, I mean, you were and are a very beautiful, desirable woman. And you were surrounded by handsome men in Hollywood. It would only be natural if you became involved with someone."

"Well, I've been around a handsome man for eight years but we didn't become 'involved' till tonight."  
He wasn't the sort to blush but he did feel self-conscious about that compliment. He considered himself average-looking and was much more used to praise of his brains than of his face or body. "Well, uh, yes."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. Then she continued. "But the pills ran out, so unless you know of a substitute you can make from ingredients on the island..."

He wasn't sure if she was teasing, but he answered her seriously, "I have been considering various contraceptive methods, ever since Gilligan and Mary Ann agreed to marry. Not that I think they'll do anything in the canoe—"

"You seemed awfully worried about me stirring him up at the bachelor party," she teased.

He came close to blushing again. "Well, I think I had a hard time believing he wasn't stirred up, when I was."  
"You? You didn't act like it."

"I was afraid that if I let myself respond to you, I would respond too much."  
She put his hand on her breast, over her heart, and smiled at him. "It could never be too much for me."

He seized her in his arms and kissed her, his hands now wandering all over her body. Her hands clutched his back and his head. This time when she climaxed, he could tell she was trying very hard not to scream her pleasure so loud that it would shake the island like an earthquake.

"Roy," she whispered, as she clung to his neck, "please come up with a reliable method, and quick!"

He nodded. "It will be my very next project."

She laughed softly. "I think it'll be even better at cheering me up than the night-light."


	13. Hale

Their days fell into a pattern now. They'd wake up and hug and kiss. They might touch each other a little, but they'd mostly save that for later, so their energy wouldn't get drained. When it would get too intense for him, he'd jump in the water. Then he'd get back in the canoe and she'd make breakfast.

After breakfast, which now included less of the vegetables and fruits, which were starting to spoil, and more of the canned food, and whatever fish was left over from the day before, they would paddle until their arms hurt and then rest, before starting again, till it was time for their lunch. As near as they could tell from the compass, they were still heading towards Hawaii, but they never saw any other boats, or planes flying overhead. Still, they kept going, because they had no choice. They had to reach land some time, even if it wasn't Hawaii.

Sometimes he'd fish in the mornings, sometimes in the afternoons, and Mary Ann would nap. When he napped, she would bathe and sometimes do the laundry as well as she could with a bar of soap and salt water.

Dinner was like the other meals, except that they both knew that afterwards they would "canoe-dle," as she called it, so it was the meal they ate most quickly.

Gilligan would strip down to nothing, while Mary Ann would strip to the waist. He was curious about what she looked like below the waist, since he had the feeling she must be at least as different from him as she was above the waist, but she said they should wait till they were rescued, and he was fine with waiting. He was still savoring her breasts, especially when she let him touch them when she was playing with him. And the island had definitely taught him patience.

Even if she weren't bringing him sweet release every night before they fell asleep in each other's arms, he would've been happy to be with her. But now he couldn't imagine any greater happiness. OK, he would've liked to have this and all the joys of civilization, too, like skateboards and hot dogs. But it wasn't like he'd have to give this up once they were rescued. It would just mean they wouldn't be doing this in a canoe.

Every time was better than the last, but he knew that that wouldn't go on forever. For now though, they were learning what the other liked, the ways to be touched and kissed. Mary Ann had always been kind to him, not just making his favorite food but believing in him when no one else did. And now she did her best to make him happy, and he did what he could to make her happy. And making her happy made him happy because he liked to see her happy, and it was a fun way to make her happy. It seemed to be the same for her.

One night they talked awhile afterwards instead of going right to sleep, although they were tired.

"I don't see why married people aren't happier than they are, if they get to do stuff like this."

"Oh, Gilligan." She kissed his cheek. "This is wonderful, but you know there are things like worrying about money or having arguments. Marriage isn't all fun."

"Well, I can't picture us arguing because we get along so well. And as for money, I don't need much, do you?"

"No, not much, but some."

"Well, the Skipper will probably hire me again when we're all rescued, and maybe that'll be enough to live on. And they say that two can live as cheaply as one, right?"

"What about if we have children?"

"Well, the Skipper can hire them, too."  
She laughed. "Oh, Gilligan."

"Mary Ann, what do you want to do when we get rescued? I mean, first thing."

She sighed. "I don't know, there are so many things I've missed. Well, it might be fun to go to the movies."

"Yeah, and get popcorn and candy!"

She laughed again. "Do you always think of food?"

"No, not always. But that's part of the fun of going to the movies."

"Did you ever hold hands at the movies?"

"Why would I want to hold hands with Skinny Mulligan?"  
"No, I mean with a girl."  
"I was too scared of girls to ask one out."

"Oh."

"Did you date much, Mary Ann?"

"Not a lot. Not like Ginger."  
"But you're so pretty!"  
"Oh, Gilligan. I dated some but there was no one I was serious about. That's why I made up that story about having a boyfriend back home."

"I wish I hadn't listened to Mrs. Howell about imitating Charles Boyer."  
"Yes, I liked you better as you. Plus, I thought I was dying!"

They both laughed, remembering.

Then she sighed. "There was one boy."  
"Oh?" He felt jealous all of a sudden.

"Well, when we were in high school, Herbert Rucker and I used to joke that if we were still single when we were 30, we'd marry each other."

"Then I'm glad I married you before you turned 30."

"Me, too, Gilligan. For a lot of reasons."

She kissed him and he was glad that he was the only one she'd ever kiss like this for the rest of their lives. She was definitely the only one he wanted to kiss like this.

She stroked his back and he caressed her breasts. Then to his surprise, he found that his condition was returning. "Mary Ann!" he cried in panic.

"Gilligan, what's wrong?"

"Look! It's getting swollen again already! And you just took care of it fifteen or twenty minutes ago!"

She smiled. "That's normal, too." And she calmly took him into her hands again to help him out. Well, she started out calmly, but then they began necking again.

When she'd cured him again, he said, "Herbert Rucker doesn't know what he's missing!"

She laughed and said, "Oh, Gilligan," again. Then she kissed his neck and snuggled up against him. They soon fell asleep.


	14. Debut

"A lemon?" Ginger held up the small yellow fruit and wondered if the Professor was joking.

"Yes, the citric acid can work as a spermicide, either applied to a sponge, or with the rind as a sort of cervical cap."

"Gee, I don't know, Roy."

"I'm also working on a prophylactic similar to when I invented glue, but I haven't yet found a way to turn it into rubber that would withstand the friction of intercourse."

She tried not to laugh. "Anything else?"

"Well, the ancient Egyptians believed that the stone of the date palm could prevent contraception."

"Then maybe we should have a date," she said, batting her eyelashes.

"Uh, yes."

She took his hand and led him deeper into the jungle. The cool evening breezes caressed them as they walked. They'd eaten dinner. The Howells were in their hut and probably wouldn't come looking for them till morning. The night belonged to her and the Professor, Roy. She still called him "the Professor" in her mind, but she was getting used to the change of name, and other changes in their relationship.

They hadn't gotten as physical as they had the night of the night-light, but they had kissed with their clothes on. After all, they'd done that for years. They'd talked about how they would need to save doing more for a time and place when they could be alone. There was still no report on the radio about Mary Ann and Gilligan being rescued, so there was no telling how much longer their own rescue would take. For now she and the Professor were on the island, and she had to admit there was no more romantic spot on earth.

They'd agreed that their first time, and maybe the times after that, would not be in either of their huts, because they didn't want the Howells to hear them. And they didn't want to be out in the open, because of sudden rainstorms and wild animals. So they were going to a cave that he had checked out in advance, to make sure it was bat-free.

"You're still not dressed for spelunking," he told her as they headed towards the nearest date palm.

"Professor, what you said!" she playfully scolded, thinking how much her vocabulary had grown since she'd known this man. Then she giggled. "You made such a cute mole, and bat!"

"Thank you. I am an expert at bat anatomy."  
"What about human anatomy?"  
"I'm afraid I need more practical observation."  
"I'd be a willing assistant. And subject."

"Good, because I want to learn you thoroughly." He gave her a long, lingering kiss, then they continued their walk.

They reached a palm tree and he joked, "Too bad Gilligan isn't around to climb it for us."

She nodded. Gilligan was like a monkey in some ways. "Can we use any of the dates from the ground?"

"That should be fine. The main thing is the stone."

"Will I have to swallow it whole?"

"No, I brought a mortar and pestle, so I can mash it up."

"Thank you," she said. She didn't think the taste would be very good, but it was worth it to be safe. And maybe she could put lemon juice on it to change the taste.

She picked up a date from the ground, one that looked like it was still fresh, and handed it to him. He thanked her and peeled off the fruit. Then he ground the stone up. "The lemon please." He'd had the same thought as she had, and he squeezed some juice out. Then he added water and stirred.

"I'm sorry you have to be the one to swallow this concoction," he said as he poured it all into a small cup he'd brought along as well.

She shrugged. "It could be worse." She drank it down. It did taste strange, and she shuddered, but then she smiled at him. "It's better than the soap we had to eat when we had those radioactive vegetables."

"Well, good."

"How long till it takes effect? And how long will it last?"  
"Immediately and for roughly 24 hours, respectively."

"Then let's go to the cave."

So they did. To her pleasant surprise, she saw that he'd put blankets and pillows on the floor, as well as candles in niches in the wall.

"It's lovely," she murmured.

"No need to tease me, Ginger. I know you deserve a suite in the finest hotel. But this is all I can offer you right now."

"I mean it. It's perfect. And even if it weren't, I'm here with you and that makes it perfect."

"Well, thank you." She knew he wasn't comfortable with compliments, either giving or receiving. So she didn't pursue it.

He lit the candles and then turned to face her, but she turned her back on him. "Could you help me with the zipper on this gown?" She didn't really need help, since she'd learned to make quick costume changes when she acted in the theater. But she liked the idea of him helping her to undress.

"Oh, yes, of course." He came over and slowly unzipped the back of her dress. He buried his nose in her neck, murmuring about her perfume, although this time she was sure that wasn't the only reason for the nuzzling. One of his hands caressed her back as the other exposed it. And then he began nibbling on her neck!

"Oh, Roy!" she sighed.

"Ginger, your scent is intoxicating!"

"So are your lips."

"Thank you." He lowered the straps of her gown and began to kiss her shoulders. He also moved his hands around to her front to cup her breasts. She remembered how his touch had made her feel a few nights before, and she wondered how she had managed to wait this long. But she had the feeling that he would be worth the wait.

Her dress fell to the floor and all she wore were panties and high heels.

"So beautiful," he breathed.

"Thank you, Roy." She took his hand again and led him over to the blankets.

They reclined, resting their backs against the cave wall. His hands caressed her as they kissed, and after awhile she undid his shirt. She knew that he had a good chest and shoulders and she was eager to see them again.

They continued touching and kissing until he cried, "Ginger! I want you!"

How long had she daydreamed of him saying those words? She murmured, "I want you, Roy." And then her hands traveled down to his belt and unfastened it. Then she teasingly, slowly lowered the zipper of his sensible slacks.

"Ginger!" he gasped.

"Lay back, Roy," she said breathily. He did and she kissed him from above, as she had when they made the silent movie and when she taught him how to romance Erika Tiffany Smith. But this time they were wearing much less clothing.

After a few minutes, he confessed, "Ginger, I'm not very experienced. I'm not a virgin, but it's been a very long time. Even before the shipwreck, it had been a long time."

"It's been a long time for me, too, Roy, but I think I still remember how it works." She finished undressing him and then guided him in finishing undressing her. Then she climbed on top of him and proved that she did indeed remember. And to her delight, he either remembered, too, or he was very quick to learn. But fortunately, he was not quick in other ways.

When she climaxed, her cries and moans echoed against the cave walls. She was glad they weren't any closer to the Howells' hut.

"Now it's your turn," she said, rolling onto her back. He kissed her and then mounted her. She whispered in his ear exactly what she wanted and he gave her this, and more. Their bodies rocked together again, till he climaxed, too, sounding much more incoherent than she'd ever heard him, and she came for the third and fourth times with him.

"So it's true," he murmured as they nestled together afterwards. "Women have an infinite orgasmic capacity."

"The ones with lovers like you do, Roy."


	15. Duck

On Day Fourteen of their journey, it started to rain. They'd been lucky with the weather so far, but Mary Ann supposed their luck couldn't hold out forever. At first, she and Gilligan kept paddling, but then the rain got heavier and the wind kicked in.

"We'd better put up the tarp," Gilligan said.

She nodded. He was the sailor. He knew. It wasn't easy to fasten the tarpaulin from the inside, with the wind fighting them, but they did their best.

They had to lie down since they now had a very low ceiling and couldn't sit up. And this led to cuddling and kissing and then necking, because there was no need to conserve their energy for paddling when the rain showed no sign of letting up.

At first it was fun, with the waves rocking them. But then the weather started getting rough. The tiny boat was tossed.

"Gilligan, I'm getting scared," she admitted.

"Don't be scared, Mary Ann, you're with me," he said, stroking her hair. She knew he was scared, too, but trying to be brave for her sake.

She kissed him and they held each other more tightly, but desire was cooled for the moment. For now they just needed to touch each other for comfort.

"Do you remember the storm that caused the shipwreck?" he asked after awhile.

"Of course. You don't think this will be as bad as that, do you?"

"No, I hope not. But I was thinking about how I believed in the Skipper, believed that he would get us all to safety. I just had to follow his orders and everything would be okay."

"I remember thinking how brave you both were. And I didn't know much about boats, being from Kansas, but I believed in both of you."

"You've always believed in me, Mary Ann, even when no one else did."

"Well, I guess I always saw your sincerity, and your potential."

He kissed her. "Thank you. But I don't know if you should believe in me now, because the Skipper isn't here to tell me what to do. And this canoe is a lot smaller than _The Minnow._ "

She nodded. "It does sort of feel like we have to be the grown-ups. No one can take care of us but us. But even the Skipper, or our parents, couldn't stop this storm. All we can do is believe we'll survive."

"At least we have each other. I mean, I wish you weren't here for your sake, Mary Ann, but I'm also glad you're with me, if that makes sense."  
"It does. That's how I feel."

They kissed some more. And then they just listened to the rain and wind beat against their canoe.

"I wish I'd found a bigger boat."

She laughed. "Well, Gilligan, this is pretty good considering you were fishing."

"Yeah, but a bigger boat would be more protection."

"Well, think about Duke Williams. He got back to Hawaii with just a surfboard."

"Yeah, but he lost his memory."

"Oh, right."

"Mary Ann, did you mean it when you said that you liked my little muscles more than Duke's big muscles? Or were you just saying that to make him jealous?"

"I meant it. And you may not look like Charles Atlas, but you're a wonderful athlete, the way you run and climb trees. And." She blushed but went on. "I think your body is perfect just the way it is."

"Well, yours sure is. I mean what I've seen of it so far."

"Thank you, Gilligan." She thought of how she hadn't yet been completely naked with him. If this were a normal honeymoon, she could've worn lingerie from her trousseau and then taken it off for him. Now she wondered if she'd ever see her trousseau again, or for that matter a bedroom. The idea of four walls and a ceiling seemed luxurious these days.

"You're welcome. Uh, do you think you could make lunch or should we wait till the storm dies down?"

She laughed. In some ways, he hadn't changed. But she was hungry, too, so she said, "Let me get the can opener. I think it'll be easiest to just open a couple cans of something."

"Whatever you choose. All your meals are good, Mary Ann."

She kissed him for his sweetness, then crawled over to where the cans and the opener were. She also got a couple spoons so that they could eat right out of the can. The canoe was tipping but she managed to bring everything back. Gilligan, so clumsy on land, opened the cans for her and managed to eat without dropping a bite, even though the light wasn't very good, with the storm and the tarp blocking some of it out. She spilled a little but then she was less used than he was to eating at sea, especially in stormy weather.

She remembered eight years ago, how she and the other passengers had huddled below deck during the storm. It had seemed unreal to her, a Kansas girl born and bred, lost in the middle of the Pacific. And in such company! With two of the richest people in the world and a genuine movie star. Even the Professor had seemed intimidating to her then, with his big scientific words, calmly explaining the natural phenomenon.

But the first mate, shy yet friendly, had done his best to put her at ease. She thought then that she would remember him fondly even after they were rescued, which she had hoped would be within days.

She now prayed that they would survive this storm as well as that storm. She was probably the most religious person of the seven castaways. Her faith in God had helped her through many difficult times, even before the shipwreck, like when her father was bankrupted by a man he trusted. She didn't talk about her faith to the others, because that wasn't in her nature. She considered it something deeply personal. But she now said, "I was wrong before. God will take care of us, like He always has."

Gilligan kissed her. "I sure hope you're right."


	16. Meteorology

"...The storm is the most severe in perhaps seven or eight years. At this time, it has not hit any populated area, although a storm warning is in effect for Hawaii."

The Professor switched off the radio, in fear and frustration.

"Those poor children! Lost at sea!" Mrs. Howell made it sound like Gilligan and Mary Ann were five years old. But the Professor understood what she meant.

"I wish the Skipper were here," Mr. Howell murmured. The Professor understood that, too. Despite the Professor's knowledge of meteorology, it would be comforting to have their captain there to reassure them that the canoe and its passengers could survive.

Ginger burst into tears. The Professor awkwardly patted her arm. He felt shyer than ever about touching her in front of the Howells, now that he'd been intimate with her. He wished he could offer her comfort, but that would have to wait till they were alone.

The rain started again. They were far enough out from the storm that they had faced no worse than mild summer showers so far, and presumably the Skipper on his bride's island was going through the same.

"Oh, what's the Skipper going to say when he finds out?" Ginger cried.

Even though the Skipper had gone off to his new life after his best friend was launched on his new life, the Professor was sure that the Skipper had not expected anything like this storm. None of them had of course. But the four of them at least were sharing their fear together, at the time it was happening. The Skipper wouldn't find out until afterwards.

"Should we send him the bottle back, with a message about the storm?" Mr. Howell asked.

"I think not," the Professor said. "Not until we know anything definite."

"How can we know anything for sure unless they're rescued somehow?" Ginger demanded.

The Professor didn't say that Gilligan and Mary Ann's dead bodies could wash ashore on the island, or someplace civilized so that it would be reported on the news. It was too ghoulish a thought. He simply said, "All we can do is wait."

The rain got a little heavier, so Mr. Howell said, "Come, Lovey, let's go back to the shelter of our hut."

"Professor, please let us know if you hear anything." Mrs. Howell was crying now.

"Of course." He put the radio under his shirt and headed towards his own hut. He went in and set the radio on the table. He tried to play it but the reception wasn't as good now. He turned it off again and then heard knocking.

For a moment he thought it was a tree branch, but then he heard Ginger call, "Professor?"

He went to the door and opened it for her, though he now had to fight the wind. "Ginger, you should be in your own hut. What will the Howells think?"

"I'll tell them I wanted to keep listening to the radio. And I do."

"Well, you're going to have to wait till the storm dies down. I'm not getting a signal right now."

"Can I wait in here?"

He hesitated but decided there was no harm in their being alone in his hut, as they had been before. Yes, circumstances had changed, but the Howells didn't know that. Besides, he could hardly make the poor girl stand in the rain and the wind while he reasoned with her.

"Yes, come in, quickly."

"Thank you." She let the door bang shut behind her.

He bolted the door and she raised her eyebrows. "I'm not trying to keep you prisoner. It's just safer if the storm builds."

"I wouldn't mind being trapped in here with you."

"Ginger," he began.

"Relax, Roy, I'm not exactly in the mood to seduce you. Right now I'm too worried about Gilligan and Mary Ann."

He found himself a little disappointed, although she was right that this was the hardly the time for seduction. "Would you like some tea?" he said for something to say.

She smiled. "I would actually, thank you."

"You're welcome." He had experimented with various plants over the years until he'd found one that made a fine tea, one that even Mrs. Howell liked. And he was used to brewing because of his various scientific endeavors.

Ginger thanked him again when he brought her the cup of tea. He'd made one for himself, so for a few minutes they blew on the tea and then carefully sipped. They didn't talk at first.

Then she asked, "Can you hold me?"

"Yes, of course." He remembered when a storm hit the island a week after the shipwreck. They were living in a communal hut then, not yet having split off into separate huts, as the women would insist on. He hadn't known either of the girls very well of course, but when Mary Ann sat next to him, it had felt natural to hold each other. She brought out his protective instincts, especially back then, when she had seemed like a frail young woman. It was only later that he realized that the farm girl was as tough as her pioneer ancestors. And the sophisticated actress had a vulnerable streak that she showed when she got to know someone, although she, too, could be strong and brave at times.

They both set down their tea on the table and scooted their chairs closer together. He took her in his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said softly. "This helps."

He kissed her forehead. "It does."

They sat like that for a long time, listening to the wind and the rain. He was sure that she was thinking, as he was, of Gilligan and Mary Ann out in far worse wind and rain, with only a little canoe to protect them against the elements, to keep them from plunging into the sea. The Professor felt guilty, guiltier than if he had allowed the Skipper to go with Gilligan instead.

"It's not your fault," Ginger whispered, as if she read his mind.

"Thank you," he said, although he didn't quite believe her. And he held her even tighter.


	17. Bob

Gilligan slept badly during the storm. It wasn't like the storm that wrecked _The Minnow_ , where he'd tried to stay alert. Then he had tried to help the Skipper and comfort the passengers. There was nothing he could do to make things better now, but that didn't make sleep any easier.

He didn't know if he was groggy or dreaming when he heard Mary Ann say, "Gilligan, I don't want to die like this, without ever becoming a woman!"

"But, Mary Ann, you are a woman." He decided he was dreaming. How could Mary Ann doubt she was a woman? Gilligan had touched her chest enough to know that for sure. So he answered her more calmly than he would've if this was really happening.

"No, Gilligan, that's not what I mean." She sighed as if frustrated.

He cautiously opened one eye. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there are more things we could do together, things we could do if we were both naked."

Gilligan had wondered about that, but they had already done so much together, and this wasn't really the best time and place. "Wouldn't you rather wait till after we're rescued and we're someplace safe and dry?"

"Gilligan, listen to me. I'm starting to wonder if we'll ever be rescued. If we'll just die out here."  
"But what about what you said about having faith in God?"

"Maybe it's not in His plan to save us."

He didn't know what to say to that.

Then she said, "I want you inside me, Gilligan."

"Like cannibalism?" Had Mary Ann gone crazy in the storm?

She shook her head. "No, the way women's bodies are, well, there's a way for part of you to fit inside me."

"Oh. Like my nose in your ear?"

"Sort of. Only much nicer. At least that's what I've heard."

Now she had him curious but he couldn't really picture it. "How does it work?"

She was blushing a little but she started undressing, awkwardly, perhaps because of the tarp over their heads and the canoe rocking in the storm. He was starting to get used to seeing her chest, but she didn't just undress above the waist this time. She peeled off her shorts and he could see her lower underwear! Even though he was her husband and she'd seen him naked, he felt like he might faint.

"Mary Ann!"

"Relax, Gilligan." She lay down next to him again and cuddled him.

His condition came back stronger than ever, holding her when she was almost naked. He couldn't help wondering what was inside her underwear and if it had something to do with a part of him fitting inside her. He was starting to speculate on which of his parts that might be, and he hoped he was right.

Meanwhile, the storm seemed to be holding its breath, as if it were waiting, too.

Mary Ann had Gilligan caress her breasts for awhile, and he was happy to oblige. Then she said, "Are you ready for me to be naked, Gilligan?"

He swallowed. "Yeah." He wasn't really but he thought he might die of curiosity if he didn't see it soon. And maybe she was right that they would die in the storm. It might be now or never. "Go ahead."

So she took off her underpants. He couldn't see too well from that angle and in that light, but he saw enough to see that she indeed looked nothing like he did.

"Mary Ann, you don't have a—I mean—"

"No, Gilligan, I don't. Instead I have this." She took one of his hands and guided it between her legs.

"Wow! Is this the part I could fit into?" There did seem to be an opening, sort of like a mouth but soft and toothless.

"Uh huh. Mmm, that feels nice. You're so sweet and gentle, Gilligan."

He was trying to be gentler than usual. This part of her was so unfamiliar to him but fascinating. He wondered if she'd meant that his fingers were the part that would fit in. Her part did expand to take the tip of one in and then more than the tip.

"Oh, Gilligan!"  
"Is that OK? I'm not really sure what you want me to do."

So she told him and he followed her instructions as carefully as he could, till she started gasping and moaning. He realized that this was giving her release sort of like the release she gave him, only it seemed to last a much longer time.

When she quieted down, he asked, "Could you take care of my condition, Mary Ann? It's really bad right now."

She smiled and said, "I was planning to."

"Great!" He quickly stripped down.

She took hold of him like before, but this time she was guiding him towards her special part.

"Mary Ann, do you want to put it in there?" He hoped she'd say yes, although he wasn't sure how this would work.

"Yes, very much."  
"I don't see how it'll fit. And the angle is funny."

"Oh, Gilligan." She lay on her back and then said, "I want you to lie on top of me."

"Won't I be too heavy?" He wasn't fat like the Skipper of course, but Mary Ann was small.

"No, it'll be fine." She spread her legs, probably to make it easier to bear his weight.

So, as the storm started up again, he clumsily climbed on top of her, her hands guiding him into position, one even on his bottom! And then the other hand slid his part into her part.

"Oh, Mary Ann, they fit! They fit perfectly!"

"Yes, Gilligan, they do."

It was nice and snug in there, but also wet, not like water, a different kind of wet. He looked down at her big brown eyes and sweet smile and then he found his part moving inside her part, the storm making their bodies rock together.

"Mary Ann, what's happening?" he asked, feeling both panic and wonder.

"Something completely natural, Gilligan."

"Oh, Mary Ann, I love you!" he cried, and then his part thrust hard into her part and the release came suddenly.

To his surprise, she laughed and said, "I love you, too, Gilligan."

"Are you a woman yet?"

"Yes, and you are now a man."

"Just think, we were a boy and a girl when we started this voyage."

She laughed more and then hugged him tight.


	18. Love Scene

Ginger meant it when she said she wasn't in the mood to seduce the Professor. But it did feel good to be with him, just holding each other. And she couldn't wait in her hut, with all its reminders of Mary Ann.

Despite her fears, the Professor's warmth, strength, and solidity relaxed her enough that she actually dozed off for awhile, her head on his shoulder. Then she woke to the sound of music, a soft, sweet instrumental. She thought she was dreaming at first, but then she realized it was the radio. She shook herself.

He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. "How do you feel?"

"Better but still worried."

"Of course."

"Any word yet?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. But I'm sure it's the kind of thing they'd break in on regular programming for."  
"The kind of thing?"  
"If they're found."

She knew he meant either that if they were rescued or if their bodies were discovered. "I hope they are. Even if it's—I can't stand the not knowing."

He nodded. "The storm increases their chances. I think it will bring the canoe closer to civilization."

She suddenly wondered if it might take them to an island filled with hostile natives. But even that would have to be preferable to drowning at sea.

"Ginger, would you like to sleep here? I mean in my bed, not sitting up." He smiled.

"What would Mrs. Howell say?"

"I think there are more important concerns right now. And it comforts me to have you here."

She nodded. "I would like to." She couldn't help a mischievous smile all of a sudden. "Of course I usually sleep in the nude."

"I'll loan you one of my shirts."

"Thank you."

He went to his chest of drawers and took out one of his buttoned shirts and a pair of pajamas. They hesitated and then turned away from each other to undress. It wasn't so much an attack of modesty as that they both realized that this wasn't a time to see each other naked. Nakedness belonged to a happier time, a time that they could perhaps return to, but not yet.

She didn't even ask his help with her zipper this time but managed on her own. She removed her dress but left on her panties. She wasn't wearing a bra. She seldom did on the island. She'd started going bra-less even before they heard on the radio that it was fashionable back in the States. She liked having one less layer of clothing in this warm climate, and some of her dresses were low-cut enough that a bra would've shown if she had worn one.

She set her dress on a chair and then put on his shirt. After she buttoned it up, she noticed that it only came down to her hips, while his other shirts had reached to the top of Mary Ann's thighs. She wondered if she should see if he had an extra pair of pajama bottoms.

She turned around as he did, now dressed in his pajamas. He gasped at the sight of her, as if he hadn't realized how much of her legs would be visible. "Ginger!" he breathed and she could see the bulge enlarge at the front of his pajama bottoms.

"Oh, Roy," she sighed, feeling tingly.

Then they sprang for each other. They were soon locked in a tight embrace, kissing as passionately as they had ever kissed before. Then they hurriedly undressed each other. Neither of them mentioned Mrs. Howell this time, but as a concession to propriety, they did try to keep their voices down, even as their pleasure built. Ginger remembered just in time to whisper that she needed more of the ground date mixture, but he had some of it in his hut and quickly prepared a dose for her. She swallowed it and then they resumed necking.

His bed was much more comfortable than the cave had been. And this time they seemed to be proving that life was stronger than death. Love was as well, although neither of them had yet spoken that word aloud.

Moving their bodies together was somehow soothing as well as exciting. She felt like nothing bad could happen when such joy was possible. The feeling lingered even after the act was completed. They kissed and caressed each other afterwards, till they felt sleepy. She thought about how they were still discovering each other, learning each other in new ways after eight years, and not just physically.

Then she laughed, "It looks like we're both sleeping in the nude tonight."

"I probably should at least put on my pajama bottoms, in case the Howells knock in the middle of the night. They may wonder if I've heard anything on the radio."

"And what should I do? Hide under the bed?"

He shook his head. "I'll just open the door a little."

He was still the Professor, logical even after she'd melted his brain. She found that comforting, although she thought it was a pity to cover up any of his body on the chance that they might be visited in the night.

His bed seemed narrower when they were trying to find comfortable sleeping positions than when they had taken turns lying on top of each other. Neither of them, he in particular, were used to having company in bed of course.

"I think, if we end up not being rescued, I'll build a king-size bed," he murmured.

She didn't know what to say. It wasn't a proposal of course, but it was an acknowledgement that they would need to admit their relationship to the Howells. Then she realized the other part of the sentence. "You don't think we'll be rescued?"

He sighed. "I said if. It's just a possibility."

She understood. And it wouldn't necessarily mean that anything terrible would happen to Gilligan and Mary Ann. Perhaps they'd end up shipwrecked on another deserted island and live out their lives elsewhere in the Pacific. Perhaps that was what it'd be like for her and Roy. She liked the idea of that in a way, and yet it also made her sad, never seeing her two friends again.

"If we are rescued," he said, caressing her breasts, "you and I are going to find a nice big hotel bed."

She tried not to giggle too loudly.


	19. Land

The first thing that Mary Ann noticed when she woke up was that the canoe wasn't moving. It wasn't simply that the storm had calmed but they weren't moving at all. Was this another lull or was the storm really over? Or had they actually landed somewhere?

"Gilligan, wake up." She tapped his shoulder.

He rolled over and nuzzled her. She could feel his hardness against her leg. "Mmm, Mary Ann. Can we do it again?"

She smiled. The sex hadn't lived up to her expectations, but she had heard that sometimes it wasn't very good the first time, especially for the woman. It hadn't been painful, but it had been very quick. She smiled because he had clearly enjoyed it, and she had the feeling it would be better for her the next time. Then she sighed. That time would have to wait.

"Not yet, Gilligan. We need to find out what's happening with the storm."

"Storm?" He cocked his head like a puppy. "I don't hear it anymore."  
"Right. And we're not moving."

"Do you think we've landed somewhere?"

To her surprise he held his finger to his lips. Then he listened more carefully. He mouthed, "I hear footsteps." His hearing was keener than hers, maybe from all the time he spent communicating with animals. Footsteps indeed meant they'd landed, but were the inhabitants friendly or hostile? She suddenly wished they weren't naked. She silently pulled one bedroll over them, leaving only their faces exposed. They couldn't hide at this point, but they could at least preserve their modesty.

"Gee, a canoe!" exclaimed a voice that could've belonged to a boy or a girl. The important thing was that he or she was speaking English with an American accent. That was a good sign, she hoped.

"See, I told you that the tiki was good luck," said another voice, a little boy's she thought.

"Tiki!" Gilligan exclaimed. His superstition had got the best of him.

Both children screamed, probably startled by a man's voice coming out of the canoe.

"OK, cool it, you guys." This voice sounded like a teenage boy's, deeper than the other two but not yet a man. This voice came closer and said, "Anybody in there?"

"Of course they're in there," said the first voice.

"Tell them we come in peace."

"They're not Indians, Dum-Dum," said the third voice.

"We're Americans," Gilligan said.

" 'We'?" said the third voice. "How many of you are there?"

"Gee whiz, Greg, how many do you think could fit in there?" said the first voice.

The little boy said, "Yeah, it's a canoe, not a clown car."

"It's just me and Mary Ann."

"Do you have any weapons?"

"Greg, they wouldn't tell us if they did," said the first voice.

"We're unarmed," Gilligan said.

"So are we," said the little boy.

The teenager, Greg, said, "Shut up." Then he spoke towards the canoe. "OK, I'm going to take the tarp off. Don't try anything funny."

"We won't," Gilligan said.

Mary Ann really wished there were a way to put on her clothes. If they were going to leave the canoe, it would have to be wrapped in the bedrolls. She was glad to be rescued of course, but she wished the circumstances were very different.

Greg fumbled at the tarp and Gilligan did what he could to help from inside. Then the tarp was folded back and the first thing Mary Ann saw was a beautiful blue sky. Then she saw three tan boys with dark, curly hair peering in.

"Um, hi, I'm Gilligan and this is Mary Ann."

The boys stared at them and then the oldest, Greg, said, "I'm Greg Brady. And that's Peter and Bobby, my brothers."

"Nice to meet you," Mary Ann managed to say.

"I think they're harmless," said the little one, Bobby.

"Uh, Miss, do you need any help out?" asked Peter, his voice breaking.

"It's Ma'am," she said, smiling a little because they were the first strangers she was meeting as a married woman. "And actually we could use a few minutes of privacy."  
"What for?" Bobby asked.

Both his brothers hit him on the head and then Greg said, "Yeah, sure. We'll wait for you a few yards up the beach."

"Thank you," she said.

After the boys walked away, Gilligan pulled the tarp down and they did their best to get dressed again.

"Wow, we're really rescued!" he whispered. "After all these years!"

She didn't think the boys had technically rescued them, since the canoe had landed on its own. Still, the Bradys might be able to help them. "I wonder where we are. We should've asked them."

"Well, it's someplace in America. Maybe Hawaii or even California."

"That would have to be some storm to take us to California."

"Wherever it is, I'm going to get a hot dog and licorice as soon as I can."

She laughed. "Oh, Gilligan." She kissed his cheek.

"Well, first let's find a nice hotel," he said in a very suggestive, but still Gilligany way.

She blushed. "Good idea." Of course, for all they knew they could be miles from any hotel. But maybe the Brady family would let them stay with them for one night. The boys were too young to be there on their own, and their parents were presumably close by.

Once they were both dressed, they folded back the tarpaulin and stood up. She felt like it would take her awhile to get her land legs. She looked around. "Oh, Gilligan, I think it is Hawaii. Look at the white sand and the palm trees."

"Sounds like back home," he said, and she knew he meant their island.

"Well, back home didn't have buildings that were more than one story." She pointed in the distance, where she could see what looked like shops and a hotel.

"Wow, civilization!"

She smiled. "Yes."

Then she saw the boys waving at them. They seemed to have a big family. There was their father, mother, and what might be an aunt. And there were three very lovely girls, with hair of gold like their mother, the youngest one in curls.

"It looks like we'll have a lot of help carrying the canoe."

She laughed and nodded. Then the bunch of people rushed over and she realized it was the biggest crowd she'd seen in years.


	20. Chemistry

"...The young couple's tale of survival is an unbelievable one. Not only their journey in a canoe but the eight years they spent on an island with five other people. And what of these five others? Mr. Gilligan told reporters that the castaways have a radio with batteries that the clever 'Professor' was able to recharge over the years..."

Ginger and the Professor smiled at each other. It had already been quite a morning and they hadn't been awake even an hour.

They'd woken to the sound of the words, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we interrupt this broadcast with exciting news. Two survivors of the ill-fated _S.S. Minnow_ have turned up after eight years! The young pair, William and Mary Ann Gilligan, arrived in Honolulu sometime near dawn in a canoe. The recent storms to the southeast of Hawaii drove them towards Oahu. They had already been at sea about two weeks. Details are still coming in as we speak but it has been confirmed that the Captain of _The Minnow_ and the four other passengers were alive when the couple left the uncharted desert island. More news as it happens. We now return to our regularly scheduled program."

The Professor leapt out of bed and snapped off Donny Osmond singing "Puppy Love." He turned and looked at Ginger, wondering if she'd heard the news.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked, pulling the blanket up over her naked body.

"I don't think so. We'd better get dressed and wake the Howells."

"Let me go back to my hut and get a different outfit. And freshen my hair and makeup."

He would've objected to this typical bit of feminine irrationality, but he looked at her more closely and realized that she did look like a woman who had made love the night before. "Of course. How long do you need?"

"An hour?"

"Ginger!"

She came over and kissed him on the cheek. "Only kidding, Roy. Ten minutes if I skip eye make-up."

He was completely naked, never having gotten around to putting on his pajama bottoms, while she was wrapped in his blanket. His body responded to her and he wished he could make love to her again. But he tried to put mind over matter. "You'd better go."

"If you say so, Roy." Her voice had never sounded more alluring.

"We'll have time alone later. It's not as if they'll be sending anyone for us today."

"Oh, you never know. Maybe they'll charter an airplane right away."

"Then we'll make love in Honolulu tonight."

"Oh, Roy!" She gave him a big kiss.

He was very tempted to sweep her back to bed, but then someone knocked. "Uh, who is it?"

"Were you expecting someone in particular?"

"No, of course not, Mr. Howell. Uh, give me a moment to wake up properly." He gestured to Ginger to hide, so she quietly ran to the food locker. Meanwhile, he put his pajamas on. Then he went to the door.

"Sorry, to disturb you, Dear Boy, but Mrs. Howell is worried sick about Gilligan and Mary Ann." The Professor could tell from Mr. Howell's expression that he was quite worried himself.

The Professor considered not telling Mr. Howell about the radio announcement, since obviously there would be updates later on. But that would be cruel to make the Howells wait any longer. And they wouldn't have to know that Ginger had heard the news, too. "Well, I was only half awake, but unless I was dreaming, there was a newsbreak just now, saying they've arrived in Honolulu."

Mr. Howell stared at him, speechless for a minute. Then he said, "Sir, you are the most unemotional man I've ever met!"

"I'm sorry. It hasn't quite sunk in."

"Where is the blasted radio?" The Professor pointed. Mr. Howell strode over and grabbed the radio. Then he looked around the room. "Did you have a little party here last night?"

The Professor blushed. Ginger's gown was on a chair, while her high heels and panties were on the dirt floor, not far from his own clothes from the day before. "Uh, yes, well."  
"It's about time."

"Please don't tell Mrs. Howell."

"You're very lucky that the Skipper isn't around and you can't have an island wedding."

"Mr. Howell."

"Don't worry, My Boy. And I'll give you some time to pull yourselves together before you come over."

"Thank you." He waited till Mr. Howell left with a wink and the radio before he went over to the food locker. "You can come out now."

"Are you sure you don't want to join me?"

He very much did but "Not right now."

"Party-pooper."

He shook his head. She did put on her yesterday's clothing and leave. They met up at the Howells' hut about ten minutes later, separately. As an actress, she was able to pretend that she hadn't seen him since the previous evening. He felt very awkward and self-conscious. But Mrs. Howell was too focused on the radio to notice.

There were several quick news updates and now this longer report. It was surreal to hear their lives described by broadcasters. And now here came their dear friends.

"The couple are now taking a well-earned nap but we were able to record their greetings to their fellow castaways. This is William 'Willy' Gilligan."

"Hi, Skipper, hi, Mr. and Mrs. Howell, hi, Ginger, hi, Professor, hi, Mary—Oh, never mind."

"And here is his new bride, Mary Ann Summers Gilligan."

"Oh, I miss all of you so much! I can't wait to see you again. And Mom and Uncle George and Aunt Martha. I'll come home to Kansas as soon as I can."

"We need to let the Captain know!" Mrs. Howell exclaimed.

"Uh, I guess I can send off a bottle message." The Professor didn't know if the Skipper would want to leave his own honeymoon bliss but he should know that Gilligan had for once not bungled a rescue.

"Do you need any help writing it?" Ginger offered.

"Uh, yes, thank you."

"We'll let you know if we hear anything more."

"Uh, thank you, Mrs. Howell."

"We'll knock first," Mr. Howell said with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Uh, thank you, Mr. Howell."

Ginger took the Professor's arm and led him out. Mrs. Howell didn't say another word, just smiled indulgently.

TO BE CONTINUED...

 _(The next story will be "Starboard Home" and it will also be rated M.)_


End file.
